If I’d held a casting call for the ideal cabbie to drive my last taxi adventure in Buenos Aires, I couldn’t have found anyone to play the part more convincingly than Julio Verón.
After 18 years driving a bus and 26 years as a taxista, the sweater-vested sixty-something oozed urban wisdom – and his instincts
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Six months ago, taxista Walter was shot four times while he was changing a flat tire in Wilde, in the southern suburbs of Buenos Aires.
After forty days in the hospital, Walter dragged himself home, lay in bed, and waited for his wounds to heal.
Friday night, for the first time since the shooting, he got
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“I wish I could eat with you,” said Jorge the taxista, “But I really can’t. My wife would kill me.”
“You’re right,” I agreed, “You can’t.”
“Yep, it’s just too dangerous. I’m a handsome guy. My wife doesn’t let me go out alone. When I get fixed up, you better watch out.”
“I can imagine.”
We were
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