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Metropolis in the Tangopolis

My homecoming taxi adventure was starting out with a bang. “I have colon problems,” the taxista said when I threw out my would-you-please-take-me-someplace-good-to-eat request, “So I haven’t eaten out in months.” “Besides,” he added, patting his slim belly, “You don’t eat what we eat.” “Excuse me?” I said. Who was ...

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