“Driving a taxi is the most stressful job I’ve ever had,” Diego said on a recent ride from Ezeiza airport.
But after three years behind the wheel, the thirty-year-old cabbie with a rhinestone in his ear has developed some coping mechanisms.
He’s traded psychotherapy for gardening. He plays soccer for at least two hours per week.
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The following entry is rated R, as it contains adult material.
“Aren’t you going to invite me to eat with you?”
“Only if it’s lunch and nothing more,” I said.
“No kisses?”
“No kisses.”
“Not even a kiss on the cheek?”
“This is how it’s going to be,” I said, “We have lunch. I take the
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“It’s all taxistas and all they serve is fast food,” Guillermo, the thirty-something cabbie, shakes his gelled head, “It’s not a place for you. There’s no way I’m taking you there. ”
“There” is Guillermo’s usual lunch spot: the gas station on the corner of Thames and Charcas in the Palermo Viejo neighborhood.
Although the prospect
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