A beat-up bus dropped me off at some stop under a mountain in the city of Yalta. I get out, stretching.

No local taxi number. Internet is down due to bombings and all that.

— Excuse me, could you tell me the local taxi number? — I ask a beautiful stranger.
— How did you guess I'm local? There are so many people, and you asked me. Wow. But I'm not local, I've just been living here for 7 years. I came from Ukraine. How did you know to ask me?
— You're the only one standing at the stop looking at bus numbers, not trying to call a taxi while staring at your phone, hoping the map will work. So, can you give me the number? I need to get to the promenade.
— *sourly*. Oh, yeah, it's three stops on this minibus. Let's go, I'll walk you there.

Just remembered.