The rumors are true: Buenos Aires knows how to party. It’s been a great weekend. Last night I went to a great, enormous bar called Acabar with a bunch of folks from my Spanish class (and their girlfriends and friends). The place had super cheap food and a great wine and beer selection, and games. We had dinner, drank about 45 drinks each, and then played jumbo Jenga. Around 2:30—when the place was still filling up—we left for another lounge-type place. We found a great back area with couches and a waitress who apparently wanted us to get wasted, considering the amount of alcohol in our $2 drinks.
I was ready to go at 4:30, but at some point this chick climbed up on stage and sang “Killing Me Softly” a capello. As she was falling down off the stage, the DJ started blasting “Don’t Stop Until You Get Enough,” and about 8,000 people appeared out of nowhere and started dancing. That led into “Beat It,” “Billie Jean” and, thank God, “Thriller.” Everybody in the place was screaming out lyrics with a thick castellano accent and dancing like it was 1984.
I got home at a little after 6:30 this morning, and we were by far the first ones to leave the dance-fest at the bar. The only downside of the evening is that someone stole my scarf, but luckily there 45 scarf vendors on every block, so I should be able to replace it pretty easily.
I slept for a few hours and then got up and took a walk to this open-air market about a half hour away. This evening I met up with the girlfriend of my Irish classmate, and we got haircuts and manicures at this hip-ass salon (for something like $17 U.S. total—absolute lunacy). Considering I only knew the Spanish words for “cut the ends,” “layers,” and “I don’t really care,” the haircut rocks.
I am currently struggling to make it through “Thriller” on Latin America VH1.
That sounds like so.much.fun. Do we get to do any dancing when we’re there, besides tango? Ooooh. I wanna be there now.