Monday 2 May 2011

Picking up in hoodies and fisherman pants

Missing money returned, but amigos gone, I was left lonely and bored. Luckily, my Iguazu friend was still around and so after a small amount of faffing, I gathered here and the hot Dutch chick now living in my room to go to the markets.

Now at these markets there are probably the best looking people I see in Buenos Aires... dredlocked, alternative, tattooed... basically one step up from homeless people but hey, it's better than the wankers I saw at that club the other day in their matching striped shirts and slicked back hair.

I bought some magic cakes from a guy at the markets, but resistesd buying any of the goods at the actual markets, and proceeded to get more and more dazed n confused at everything around me. In a good way. I already looked like a bum in a guy's hoodie and fisherman pants.

So eventually I got talking to a Columbian rasta who made me a nice little ring out of wire, and then asked me to dinner and smokes at his house, and I said he could pick me up from my hostel around the corner. I just kept laughing at his charming little Columbian speech - I swear they are all as bad as each other - and how much he reminded me of my other Columbian friend... ¨que buuuuueeeennnoo, que rrrriiiiiccooo¨ haha... I was also quite stoned by this point so anything was funny.

Regardless, the rather rough language exchange seemed to work, even with my super homeless get-up, and I went back to the hostel to chill with my workmates in the bar. Well, he never showed, not sure why, but that is all good. I just drank myself stupid on cheap drinks with a Brazilian guest here, speaking bad Spanish with him, and then took myself to bed. I think I am over my crush with the other Brazilian here, the bartender. He tells me he likes ass too much... next!

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