“Can I ask why you’re driving a taxi?” Rosie asks Ferdy. “If you’re a politician.” “Because I always lose,” says Ferdy, swerving at the last moment to avoid a concrete truck. “Every time I lose.” Ferdy beeps his horn at a group of young children waving at him from a bright yellow veranda. “They still seem to like you, though,” says Rosie. “That’s because I lose,” says Ferdy. “If I’d won, they’d hate me. That’s politics.”
