I had an absolutely surreal taxi ride in Milan this morning. The driver started the journey by staring, almost exclusively, at himself in the rearview mirror and adjusting his hair. I have no idea how he navigated the traffic. Maybe his hair was doing the actual driving.

Then, grown bored with that, he started flipping channels on the radio. He did this every four or five seconds for almost 30 minutes, pausing only once on a soft rock station playing something with a slide guitar. At first it was annoying. But then it became silly and I started to giggle. By the end of the trip it felt like I was imagining it. 

I now wonder if he did it just for us as some kind of elaborate tribute to our foreignness.