So there we were, coming back by taxi from yet another delectible Shabbos Kodesh on Good ol’ Moshav Matityahu, when, out of nowhere these three little muchnkins felled asleeped. Good thing none of them were driving, hey?
Well, to make a short story long, we had this fantastic driver of Indian descent (that means he used to live on a totem pole) (my blog, my jokes. deal with it.)
He had spent 7 years in Argentina, and he still didn’t know my friend Enrico Palatzo.
The horror.
I digress.