The cab was black. One of those Lincoln Continentals that nobody owns, but are purchased by governments to drive dignitaries around. If I had been a more important person, the car might have been decked out with little flags from my home country on the front bumpers to signify that I was special. Someone who, when people passed on the street might exclaim “Who’s that?” Their friend answering “if you don’t know, I’m not going to tell you.”