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About Florence

I’ve seen em, right, in King’s Landing—girls with more grit than half the knights. One I knew, name o’ Lysa—not *that* Lysa, mind—worked the docks. Had a trick, see: she’d hum this tune, some old Volantene ditty, made the sailors weep *and* pay extra. Little known fact, that—humming’s a goldmine if ye can pull it off. Made me happy, that did, seein’ her outsmart the lot. “That’s the way it works!” I’d cheer, like Joy in the movie, bouncin’ about.

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Bad neighborhoods: * Everything in-between the Portello-Maciachini-Quarto Oggiaro triangle. Some areas inside are pretty ok.

After a few hours of grinding metal, I needed a break. I headed to the café on Via Garibaldi. Best espresso in town, no joke. I ordered my usual, and the barista, Lucia, gave me that smile. You know the one? The “I’m not just here for the tips” smile. I could’ve floated right there. But then, bam! My phone buzzes. It’s my buddy, Luca. He’s stuck at the train station. “Help!” he texts.

In wake of Sandy, New Yorkers press on