It turns out Americans don't really know how to party. We have been going out most nights for dinner and drinks, and thanks to the time change we have found the late nights a bit easier to handle, but even our 3-hour advantage is not enough to keep up with the Argentines.
On Monday night after dinner, we stopped at a micro brewery for a beer. [Interesting note: the Argentines don't really have a beer culture, and their local beer Quilmes, while not offensive, is not something you would go out of your way to buy. But there are a few small, American-esque brew pubs that have some legitimate micro brews.] While there, we were encouraged to drink another pint, since it was "happy hour" ... duh! midnight! ... and after our bottle of wine at dinner we were feeling very friendly. So friendly that our waitress (as a joke, we think) brought a gentleman over to introduce to us, Ernesto. Turns out Ernesto, in addition to being completely hammered, was Venezuelan and in BA visiting his son, a TV sports-caster whom we also met. It's amazing what you can accomplish with a limited vocabulary and gestures. We "talked" about politics, religion, and Buenos Aires culture. And then he bought us a glass of wine.
The pub shut down at 2 am, and on our way out the door we met a couple on a first date who invited us to another bar for a drink. She was an English translator (score!), and he was a geologist. 2 more beers and a dance lesson later, Jax and I were thoroughly and unintentionally blitzed. We finally decided to stumble home at 3:30. And don't forget this was a MONDAY NIGHT!
We may try to rest up today and try our luck at a Friday night on the town. Details will follow.
Awesome!
ReplyDeleteI watered your plants yesterday.