the night life ain't the good life, but it's my life.

Cramming two nights into one post. Here goes:

sneak-attack, very candid photo of me and Annemarie on Wednesday
night, courtesy of Damian's work friend, Juan

On Wednesday night, Annemarie, Jenny and I went to dinner in Puerto Madero then to Museum in San Telmo for “after-office.” It starts at 10 pm (ridiculously early by Argentine standards) and since we got there at 10:15, they tried to make us pay. Annemarie’s boyfriend Damian was already in there, so he was able to get us in the club for free without waiting in any line. It really helps to have a porteño “in.”

Damian had been with his guy friends for cho y pan (chorizo sandwiches and pre-partying by the river). We meet his rugby friends and his work friends. They are like night and day. But still all very nice.

So we are inside Museum, and it is incredible. I had heard it was a converted church. But I would guess maybe an old theatre. Old ironwork along the railings, three stories, and a giant chandelier made of disco balls. They play such hits as: Crystal Waters’ “100% Pure Love” and Janet Jackson’s “Together Again.” It is like childhood revisited. But with booze.

Club Museum

Annemarie tells me it’s fun to make eye contact with as many boys as possible; she enjoys seeing me struggle through the hoards of aggressive Latin men for the first time. But I mean, if you ever need an ego booster, come down to a nightclub in Buenos Aires, basically the only words you need to say are:
¿Como te vas?
Bien bien.
¿Y vos?
And then you kiss each other on the check and go on your merry way.

Usually.

So Jenny and I make the rounds while Annemarie hangs out with Damian and his friends. We get tired of Argentine men trying to speak English to us. I guess it is obvious we are American when we go out in packs. But this one guy just asked me ¿Que tomas?” (Finally, someone who doesn’t want to practice his English!) and I tell him “Un vodka con agua.” He heads to the bar. Jenny is ready to move on but I want a free drink. She says I’ll only have to talk to him for like 5 minutes. Fair price for a drink I think.

His name is Matias. He is wearing a navy polo shirt. (Annemarie says all Matt’s are trouble because that was her ex-husband’s name. I tell her my mom and I have a theory that all Matt’s are hot) I walk up to him at the bar. Matias hands me a glass half full. “Su vodka” and then una botella de agua sin gas. I take a sip from the glass. Yep, straight vodka. Half full, very little ice. And these are not highball glasses. These are tall glasses. I quickly mix it myself and we walk off with Jenny and whoever her boy of the moment is. Then Matias leaves me with his friends. One of them is named Gaston. Like in Beauty and the Beast. I gasped “¿Como en La Bella y La Bestia? ¿El mas guapo de todo Francia?” He ate it up and gave me a huge kiss on the cheek. Matias may have abandoned me, but his friends are in love with me. I am slightly insulted when I see Matias chatting it up with some Argentine girls, but I get over it. Kind of.

The night moves on and we run into Matias again. This time he greets me dramatically with a bottle of Smirnoff that he pours into my glass. It was like the crowd parted and a bottle of vodka came down from the sky. Damian, watching after me, takes it to the bar to add water. (Everyone shares everything here. Drinks especially. It’s like you pass it around. I mean obviously only with people you know. But you share. So Damian and I share my vodka. At this point it is probably just vodka. I don't want any more. I let him have it.) Matias’ friends hand me a glass of champagne. Not in a flute, in another tall glass. I see them pour it from the bottle: MUMM.

Note: it is somewhat rare for porteños to spend that much money in the bars. That’s why Damian and his friends do the cho y pan thing and drink beforehand. This Matias character must be loaded.

We all dance in a little group by the stage (no one is allowed to dance on stage. I find this strange; then again, stage fright doesn’t run in the family). Matias’ friends keep coming up to me, telling me, “El es el mejor. El es el mejor,” like I’ve won some kind of prize or something. He asks for my number and can’t believe I don’t have a cell phone. So then he asks for my home number but I don’t know it yet. Annemarie gives it to him and tells me, “Rule #1: they never call.”

Well, she was wrong. He called me after work yesterday and told me:
“Sin vos no puedo vivir jamás” (I cannot live without you.)

A bit dramatic, no?

He wants to go out later. He gave me his cell phone number. Damian says he’s safe.
I might call him later. He doesn’t speak a word of English, so it would be good practice I suppose.

Aside from the phone call, yesterday was just a typical day of café con leche and errands (which take a while because Argentines love their lines). Ben and I met up with his uncle who is in on business. He took us to dinner and was very nice. Just moved to the Houston area from Oklahoma.

After dinner Ben and I went to an ACORN meeting hosted by these two American girls who went to Bates College. There was a big turnout and quite a few Texans there. It was fun to connect with Americans, especially those who are interested in volunteering here. Someday when I tire of the café life I will need to stop by their community center. So many people to talk to there. Ali, one of the organizers, is from Houston, and the other organizer, Sara is dating Lloyd French. I had been told to look for him in November but I didn’t know he was still here. It was very nice to see him. He recognized me right away, and we had plenty to talk about. Also met a guy from Bucknell who knew Fritz, a boy from Indonesia who went to UC Berkeley, a younger girl from UT who is studying abroad for the semester…

But then we had to leave to go out.

Club Araoz/LOST

Our friend Leandro invited us to be his guests on the VIP list at this club in Palermo, LOST. Turns out it’s called Club Araoza every other night, but on Thursdays it is a Hip Hop club with rap and American music and break-dancers take over the floor until 2 am. We get there at 1:30 am, and already I have seen more black people here than I knew existed in Buenos Aires. Leandro told me they are mainly Brasileños. But the break-dancers are awesome, sinewy characters who move like water across the dance floor. It was very cool to watch while we waited for Leandro. He texts Ben that he is in el VIP (pronounced “veep”) but we can’t get in without a wristband. I go up to the male bouncer: “Buscamos Leandro. ¿Sabes si esta acá?” He tells me to ask for “el bebe.” When I go up to the VIP bouncer and tell him I was told to ask for “el bebe,” the rope is pulled back, the heavens open, and we are accepted in the VIP section.

A note on the VIP section: it is obviously less crowded, the people like to see and be seen, the bar is close by and rarely crowded, and they dance with each other and for the most part leave you alone. Except for this gross older guy with a curly ponytail. He kept telling me I was beautiful and that he wanted to kiss me. I got pretty annoyed with him, but eventually he moved on. I did not kiss him.

We are greeted by Leandro, and he is wearing a red hoodie, jeans and a Puma t-shirt. Very Hip Hop. He asks us how we got in, we tell him about “el bebe.” That’s his boss. I’m surprised Leandro isn’t el bebe, he’s so fresh-faced and young looking. Very sweet. I would never expect an American to follow through as well as he has, considering we met him at a protest. He leaves us for a second to greet his ex-novia. It’s only been a week since they broke up: he’s too busy with work; she’s too busy modeling. It looks like there wasn’t complete closure. Or maybe kissing your ex-girlfriend on the neck is normal here. She is very tall and very thin. To the point of being completely flat chested. She looks like a combination of a prepubescent boy and Shannyn Sossamon. Her black hair is cut in a blunt bob that grazes her cheekbones. Her skin is pale, her face plain. But somehow she is pretty. She wears a wife-beater tank top with a plaid pleated skirt and Nike Air Force Ones, giving her the effect of looking like a confused schoolgirl in a nightclub where hoodies and Puma gear are almost mandatory. I feel a bit overdressed in my grey dress and red necklaces, but to be honest in el VIP, everyone else is too important to notice you, which after the night before, is kinda nice. We stay until 4:30 and then head home.