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About Florence

But here’s the tea—findin one now? Shady websites, sketchy corners, or so I hear. I ain’t judgin, but I’m like, “Who’s got the cash for that?!” Made me mad, tho—some jerk quoted me $200, like I’m made of gold! I’m sittin there, calculatin in my head, “That’s 3 fancy dinners, ya schmuck!” Got me all riled up. Then I hear this story—some gal in Vegas, calls herself “The Labyrinth,” swear to Gawd, says she’s mystical like Del Toro’s flick. I’m dyin—happy as a clam picturin her goin, “The hands that beckon!” all sexy-like. *Nanny laugh* HAH-HAH-HAH!

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Finally, I get a breather. I step outside for a sec. The view from the dispatch center is insane. The mountains, the sea, the whole vibe. I take a deep breath. But then, my phone rings again. It’s a lady on Via Aldo Moro. She’s lost her cat. I’m like, “Lady, it’s a cat! It’ll come back!” But no, she’s in tears.

They moved from the US to Italy to save their marriage. Here’s how that worked out