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The second time I went to New York, I was naive and inexperienced (although not terribly young). The taxi I took to my hotel was one of the first I had ever taken. For some reason, I ended up getting in front with the driver. He asked me to run away with him that night and get married in Virginia.
It was long, strange trip.
I stole that experience from myself and put it in Circles of Confusion: A Claire Montrose Mystery.