An Adventure

Last night we went to a party at one of our Expat friend's house (which, unbeknownst to us was a wine tasting/sharing event for which we were completely unprepared).  We've found a pretty good online resource for bus routes, so after having looked at that, we were confident we knew which bus to take.  We were either a) SO wrong or b) not paying enough attention.  My bet is on a).   We eventually found ourselves, rather than in Palermo, in Florida - kind of 'outside the beltway'. Once we realized we were not anywhere near our destination we debarked the bus and went in search of a taxi.
There we were, walking in a neighborhood much like those to which we're accustomed (though the buildings were not as high), and not a taxi in sight.  Finally, Egg approached an older man walking his dog and asked where would be the best place for us to find a cab.  When we told him we were lost, he said, sotto voce: Don't say that too loudly around here. This is not a good neighborhood for you.
He went into some detail about all of that, though our Spanish isn't good enough to've understood the subtleties of what he was trying to convey. We did get the idea that he thought we should get the hell out of Dodge.  There weren't taxis, per se, he informed us. But, just two blocks up the road was a Casa de Remis, which are sort of taxis, but they aren't the traditional black-and-yellow ones. They have no writing on them whatsoever, so you don't find on driving around. You have to go to the Casa to request one.
After he directed us to the Remi House, he went on his way with his dog.  As we were walking in the opposite direction, I was thinking to myself:  If I had a similar situation in Asheville, I would walk the people to their destination.  Of course, in Asheville I'm always offering to help lost-looking tourists.
When we came to the second intersection I looked back and there was dog-walking-man trailing along behind us.  Just as we spied our destination, he waved and pointed, then came up and indicated that he'd do the talking.
The Remi House was a tiny little space: a woman at a desk, two chairs to sit and wait and a driver sitting in an alcove around the corner.  With our destination communicated, our gratitude to dog-walking-man bestowed, we hopped into the shiny silver car and about thirty minutes later (at HIGH speeds which scare celene) we arrived at the party.  Whew!
Today I looked at a BsAs map - it ends up we were kind of near where I used to live here, La Lucila, which is pretty darn north of where we're living now.
Just so you know, we laughed at ourselves a lot and had a grand time being as lost as we were :)