Walking into a typical Italian café for breakfast, which in Italy is usually a café latte and a pastry for me. There is one particular pastry I love in Italy. It’s a donut filled with custard. Yum, really delicious and their coffee, made with an espresso poured into a jug of hot milk, is what dreams are made of. So this particular morning I was in Firenze, by all accounts one of the most beautiful cities on the face of God’s earth. I was kinda sleepy and needed that coffee to wake me up. As I entered the café, a lady was standing outside the door wearing a large coat. The weather was fairly balmy, and I could tell within two hours give or take, it was gonna be sticky hot. She had Kleenex tissues in one hand and socks and underwear in the other, all for sale. She...