He's given up hope on Americans ever pronouncing his name right. It's okay. Ianto takes a small sip of his drink and chuckles into the glass, just a little, because it's hard to tell if Cecil is joking or utterly serious and he wouldn't want to be rude.

"Well, let's see." He sets his glass down on its napkin and absentmindedly squares the paper off with the grain of the bar top. "Don't trust directions. Don't go in empty subway cars." Stay to the right, but Cecil probably knows that already, given his accent. Ianto is still struggling a bit. "Be careful in Central Park. Keep your stitches clean and dry."