My bags have arrived with me. The German reputation is intact.
The cab, a Mercedes naturally, is decked out like a spaceship. A GPS, an iPhone and two other screens. The cabby is wearing white linen pants, and matching white pull on shoes of some kind and a rugby shirt. He has cool sunglasses and a shock of white hair, and he refuses to talk to me. I feel privileged that he is letting me ride in his cab.
Almost to the hotel. Need to ensure I can stream game 7 at whatever ungodly hour its on over here in the land of Dennis Seidenberg.
June 15, 2011