Getting lost

Sam and I had stayed until the very end of the fair. The lights were shutting off and the shuttles were making their last runs. We hopped on the bus that would take us in the direction of our home, then fell into a relaxed conversation. 20 minutes later we hear the bus driver telling everybody to get off. We had arrived at the last stop. This stop happened to be unfamiliar to us both and even worse, the street we were on was beyond the edge of the paper map we cared. So here we were, lost in a foreign city with no cell phone service and little Spanish-speaking skills. We roamed for 30 minutes before we came upon a crowded bar, and at that point we were desperate enough to ask (in broken Spanish) how to get home. 4 men and 1 woman smoked their cigarettes and eagerly offered advice, all telling us at once to take different routes. One man and the woman insisted on giving us a ride. I was hesitant, hearing my moms warnings in the back of my mind, but finally Sam and I decided to take their offer. Ten minutes later, to our relief, we arrived in front of my apartment. The lesson I learned? Trust intuition when making judgements and always carry an elaborate map.