It was a funny little thing actually, because just the night before I'd been in a cab with an Egyptian driver and he'd been listening to the radio as we death-sped into town. And on the radio was Lorde.
"Do you like this song?" I said.
We'd been speaking already 'cos I always ask New York cabbies where they're from, partly 'cos geography's interesting and partly 'cos I like to show off that I know the capitals of obscure countries (though I'm frequently stumped by some driver from Mali or Benin and have surreptitiously Googled "Porto-Novo" on my phone just to make doubly sure).
"Yeah," he said. "It's a good song. Her name's Lordie."
"Yeeaah. Ahh, I think it's just 'Lord'," I said, re-establishing a show-off/know-it-all status already firmly established by a discussion of Alexandria versus Cairo versus Aswan life. "She's from my country."
"You know her?" he said, impressed.
"Naaah, never met her."
"Oh. Where you from?"
"New Zealand.
"New Zeeeeealand."
"Yeah, she's from this place called Takapuna," I said.
"It's a good song, man."
We rolled up to the toll booths on the Triborough Bridge, Manhattan fading in late-afternoon dimness.
"It's everywhere, man."
Pretty cool.
