Getting numbers, holler.

I must have looked lost and distressed fumbling with an over-sized map in the middle of Florence when a nice tall Italian man asked if he could offer some help. He told me he lived near the Florence airport and was in the leather goods business, which allowed him to live in Los Angeles and Atlanta for 4 years. He then decided to guide me towards the direction of my hotel, but don't worry, I did not tell him where I was staying. I also told him I was traveling with a group of friends (shoot, forgot to tell him about my fake husband).
Before he left, he gave me his number so he could take me out to his favorite restaurants. Sure it was tempting to meet up with a local and explore the native lifestyle, but after hearing about the movie "Taken" from my friend Alicia, I decided not to call my potential new Italiano friend.