She Can Bang My Hammer Anytime

I´m getting bored writing the went to a club, got pissed, stayed til very late and now I feel shit blogs, so this will be my last one from Buenos Aires. Mostly because I´m leaving for Sao Paulo in a couple of hours.

So here we go again...went to a Scottish restaurant last night. In Argentina. Go figure. The waitress was wearing a ridiculously short tartan skirt which was just short enough to put me off the food. Actually, Im doing the food a disservice it wasn´t that bad - I had something they called a ´Basket´. The translations are consistently dodgy here, so I don´t know if that´s what they call them in Scotland, but anyway it was a round loaf of bread stuffed with meat and veg and a little bit uninspired although the quality of meat (that´s not meant as a double entendre, although it could be if you want it to), as it always is here, was excellent. I ate on my own. Although I have done this regularly for years I still never fail to get depressed eating solo in restaurants, I´ll do my best to eat with someone or at home on my own.

Afterwards I met Noellia and Geany at midnight in a very famous bar here called Kilkennys. BA has a load of Irish bars and although I normally avoid ´Irish´ bars in South America like the plague, the ones here are actually quite good and frequented by mostly locals. After way too many hours drinking we made the fatal decision of trying to find somewhere else that was open. The only place they knew of was an after hours club in the Palermo district (I forget its name, it began with a c). Seems like this after hours club is popular with workers of the sex industry needing a drink after a hard night grabbing sweaty penises. Id never seen so much silicon in one place in my life. There seemed to be a big gay contingent here too.

We found an empty corner to sit down and ordered drinks. A couple of minutes passed and a very drunk Argentinian guy sits next to me and pulls a nearby plastic blonde onto his lap. After a couple of minutes of wrestling with her, which seemed to begin flirtatiously, it all seemed to be getting very tense. She was struggling to get away and he wasn´t having any of it. It was all a bit unpleasant and I considered intervening, but luckily she escaped on her own and almost immediately afterwards he keeled over on the sofa and fell asleep.

A couple of minutes later the girls went to the loo. Instantly this young Brazilian-looking girl sits next to me and starts yapping away. Because I´m so obviously with someone, I figured that she knew them too and was being friendly. Now I know that this would never happen in the UK, or probably anywhere in Europe, but here in South America it´s happened loads of times so I wasn´t that suspicious. After a couple of minutes of the usual como tu llama, de donde eres, cuantos anos tienes rubbish I ask her if she knows Geany or Noellia. Who are they? So thats a no then. No big deal. She then asks me if I´d like her number. Erm, sure, but please not in front of the children, but luckily the children were still in the loo. Let me find a pen. Oh no need....and she hands me a business card. Bloody hell, thats professional. You, dear reader, probably figured out earlier than I did last night that she was a pro but I was drunk and blinded by the silicon in the room to be thinking very straight.

She left sharpish as soon my friends returned and I only remembered the incident this afternoon when I found the card in my pocket. The card read:

Cintia E*******
Martillera Publica

Ooooh...I wonder what Martillera Publica means. It´s probably something dirty like Oral Specialist or even worse. Nope. Google tells me it means Public Auctioneer.