‘Don’t evah marry girl from new york,’ he said. ‘She will curse at you in front of your kids!’

He was from Nigeria, in his sixth year owning a car service and 30th in the states. ‘If you live in United State for thirty years and you still alive, you must be pretty good man.’ His laugh was hearty, though he later explained how many times he had been held at gunpoint. Eight. We pulled into the airport. He quipped that, ‘if they build a road to Nigeria, I don’t care if it take me two months, I’d rather drive than fly.’ And with that I humped into JFK on my way to la-la land.