Baquintaun

Fuck.

I got back from Bi Ei.
Actually it's been five days since I got back, but I couldn't get myself to sit and write something about it.

It was only four days but, how nice four days...you may say: "hey, it's only Buenos Aires, not that you went to London or New York" and in my defense I can
add: "well, imagine how dull my life here must be to feel blown away only spending four days in BA". This kind of trips are those which leaves cracks in my
foundation. And it's getting worse and worse each time, terribly hard to come back not feeling depressed.

- "wow, a week ago I was walking around Palermo"...I kept saying now and then this past week everytime I glanced at the calendar and realized what the date was.

Anyway, weather was excellent, I must say. Almost spring temperatures in the middle of winter, perfectly suitable for walking and sightseeing.

As I always do, here it's a list of things I saw, listened and thought while I was there, having a blast and not wanting to EVER come back home.

- I've been to A LOT of bookshops. A lot. In such a delightfull rush of pleasure. The one thing I NEVER pay attention to when I get into a bookshop is the "bestseller's section". Why should I care about them? Are they any better than the one I'm looking for? That they were bought more than, let's say, "Facebook for dummies" doesn't mean they are more interesting. What is that fact useful for? I couldn't care less about how many people bought "Twilight" or "Harry Potter and the whatever it is". I know what I want, I don't need any suggestions based on sales. Thanks.

- On Monday night, as I had planned to, I went to La venganza será terrible, at Paseo La Plaza. By myself, though I had invited some friends whom, at the end, couldn't make it. It's just amazing how strange the audience is. Lots of homeless people who go there to sleep, clean or keep themselves warm for two hours. Then there are always a couple of weirdos, with a loose screw (or two) who do their best to stand out and talk nonsense out loud, only to be noticed by Dolina and Co. just when they are in the best part of a joke. This particular time I saw a man, looking kind of drunk, with his fly open, his hands in his jean's pockets...walking around, really weird.

- walking down Av. de Mayo I saw a girl with a huge smile on her face, just like some girl in a shampoo TV ad, walking in slow-mo. It seemed she had got a
raise. Or that she had just been asked for her cel phone number by the man of her dreams. Couldn't know but she was absolutely happy and glowing among the rest of the people.

- On Sunday I had "lunch" (or something similar) at the Alto Palermo's Starbucks. I was sitting at my little table, eating my ham and cheese quiche and some employee started brooming the floor next me. Aaaaall the way to the other side of the place. "Hey, girl, watch it, I don't want extra dust with my menu, please, move away". No, once again I didn't dare to tell her that. Should have, though. After that, I HAD to listen to a perfectly stupid conversation of a Jewish family consisting of two grandparents, mother and two boys. They spoke very loud as if they wanted all customers to know their thoughts about politics, economy and the future careers of their kids.

- I realized that after four days of eating at Cafes and fast food places such as Aroma/Starbucks/Havanna/Brioche Doree/The Coffee Store/McDonalds/Cafe Martínez/etc when I was heading for the bus station I was desperately craving for some steak. At the very end of the last day I was already feeling sick every time I smelled that kind of food.

- I had a funny situation with a taxi driver, who deserved an award for his awful lack of tact. I was leaving Paseo la Plaza at 2am, after Dolina's radio show, and I was not planning to walk the six blocks that separated me from the hotel. I was certainly not doing that, late a night as it was. I reached for the first free taxi I saw waiting at the curb. Once I told him the address, he answered (and now I have to switch to Spanish since it's unbelievable):

taxi driver: tsk...te lo digo de corazón...si sabía que era por cinco cuadras nomás no lo hacía...hace una hora que estoy esperando ahí en la calle...por un viaje de cinco pesos...no me conviene...
me: ¿uh? mire...son las dos de la madrugada... necesito un taxi, lo tomo y punto. Soy una turista, yo no sé que usted hace una hora que está ahí (BTW, who the fuck made you wait there for an hour??).
taxi driver: es que...viste? de corazón te lo digo, de verdá...cuando es así no los perjudiques a los taxistas.
me: (not believing my ears, I tought: "you idiot, If I'm willing to pay $6 for only six blocks is because I really need the taxi, for God's sake!")

I immediately wanted to get off the taxi without paying him a cent but, hey, that would have benefit him! and I really didn't want that to happen. I remained quite (speachless, I'd say). Didn't say anything else. I pulled my best "I'm pissed off" face until we arrived to my hotel. I payed him, exactly what the meter marked, with the coins and everything ("tip is out of the question, fucker", I said to myself) and stepped out of the car.
me: good night ("next time put a f***** sign before anyone asks you for a ride that costs less than $50").

- I carry a list of places I should not enter with money If I want to protect my budget. Well, I have to add now Morph and Farmacity. They're wicked.

In spite and because of all of the above, I love Buenos Aires madly.
Wait for me. I'll be back, and mabye, for good.