Monday, April 27, 2009

Joey P does not speak spanish

blurry but joey p

Joey P landed in Buenos Aires about a week ago and my precious sleep has been majorly stunted though with justifiable cause and inebriation. We went to a casino on a boat docked next to a well lit parking lot in southern Buenos Aires, about a 10 minute bike ride from my former apartment (more details to come). The boat casino was a time machine where you were immediately transported into an age of weird yellow carpeting, indoor smoking, and lots of gambling. The decision was made at around 1 am on a monday night, following a bar/ pool (as in the game, not swimming) session where we were playing a group of french dudes and then a group or argentines. My pool playing drastically improves with a drink or two, so in effort to not look complete pansies in front of the argentines, we systematically ordered more drinks until we could hold our own ground. One of the guys was about 6'2" and "could definitely kick our asses" and another covered in tattoos, who knew almost no english, but managed to communicate "Redsox!" to joey. Note: Joey P does not speak spanish though at this point had built up the vocabulary to order Pizza, beer, and bum cigarettes but beyond, conversation was difficult. Despite this fact, everyone seemed to gravitate toward and speak at him in foreign words- pretty girls, terrifying dudes, and every single homeless person in Argentina. I translate when possible.

So, we ended the pool match, walked down the street for joey to order pizza, and then made the decision to ride to the casino on the condition that joey would bankroll me 100 pesos (about $30), though I should mention that this was his idea, not mine. A good idea. We pedaled over, locked up our bikes in the Bike specific parking area, walked through metal detectors (you cannot take photos inside, unfortunately) and headed for the blackjack table until about 5:30 am. In the last half hour we both started betting in effort to lose the last of our mostly lost chip count and proceeded to win repeatedly. Joey put all of his coins on the number 17 at a roulette table and won, and then lost half on red, and then doubled up again on black. Fist pumps all around. We still ended up with a negative final balance, but not by much. Riding home, Joey fell crossing train tracks and I tried my hardest to get him home quickly so I could go to sleep on this now very early tuesday morning.

On Wednesday I moved apartments, hauling almost all of my belongings across buenos aires in a single bike trip and met my new housemates. On Friday we all played charades and ended the night relatively early (note: my new favorite charade is "child birth") but Saturday night was party time. My new argentine housemate, Augustin, was celebrating his birthday in northern buenos aires, inviting Joey, myself, and the other housemate, Sophie from france, to his cumpleanos.


We were the only extranjeros at the party which made for a really terrifying beginning but after a few bottles of wine, just fine. Again, people gravitated towards joey and this time Sophie as well, all really excited to practice other languages. There was dancing, wine spilling, picture taking, wine drinking, and hordes of attractive people.

not my fault.

We left the party to go to a club in more central BsAs, meeting up with a friend of mine from school, Chris, who earlier sent me a message that neglected to mention the 30 peso cover and Strippers! My god. I have never seen a stripper before and these lovely ladies lived up to my every expectation. Disgusting. They looked like leather baseball mits grinding their oily body parts on poles and taking money to have their picture taken with drunk people. There were so many people in the club and it took a while to find my friend though once successful, we were taken upstairs to the stripper room filled with friends of friends of friends. Chris dove into the dance-floor with a huge warm intoxicating(ed) grin on his face and was absolutely in the party zone. Both hands in the air fist pumping to latin beats while smiling and grinding with a girl in my history class. They didn't know each other, I don't think, but seemed to be getting along pretty well.

Chris from a different occasion but the only picture i have

I danced with Sophie a bit but to call it dancing is difficult. There were so many people and I was nursing my shoulder bag/ man purse with film camera inside, definitely unintentionally attacking people with my swirly dancing. I may or may not enjoyed a kiss with my brand new housemate and joey may or may not have taken a poop in the club and then talked to the towel guy about it. I dont know- it may have been just some guy but there was post-dump conversation and it was really really late at night. I would ask him but he is still asleep and it is 3pm. Fucker.

In closing, here is my favorite picture from Joey's visit so far. Key elements include: Pretty argentines, a wine bottle opener with broken cork in hand, and the best late night facial expression ever. There are more flattering pictures of these three but I really prefer this one:


Snookered&Bookish said...

is that Sam's Argentinian doppleganger?

robert said...

i just re-read this... punctuation?

KDHL said...

Yeah srsly why are you going to BA and not telling anyone, Samantha?

Also, Joey P might be the most ridiculous/best person to galavant around that city with. I'm glad you survived, Robert. Don't get lost in a flood of gorgeous Argentines.