Watching the Sun Rise

No, we do not wake early to see the sun rise, but for the second time in a week, we have seen the sky illuminating as we return from a night of debauchery. The interesting thing is that returning at this hour seems to be quite common. There is no closing hour for the bars in Buenos Aires, at least that I have seen yet. It was near 5:00 AM as we finally hailed a cab for our trip across the city to our apartment. I keep thinking of those Vegas shows on the travel channel where they tell you how the casinos pump oxygen into the casinos to keep everyone going; because I don't really get tired, and without a last call, it is suddenly muy tarde.

The streets are still filled with party goers at 5:00 AM. A diverse demographic, ranging from what could have been high school aged kids to men in their business suits, makes hailing a free cab an elusive obstacle. The dificulty in finding a cab reveals just how busy the city is at 5:00 in the morning. Buenos Aires is similar to N.Y. City in many ways, one is that every other car is a taxi, and they were all ocupado. Our cabby told us how many there are in the city, but I can't remember now, it was something "mil," which means thousand, and all were running last night.

Cheers to our amigos from the school for dragging us to a club; where we had a great time shaking our butts to a really bad house mix, despite our earlier protests. Also, sorry to those who witnessed it.

I also have to mention the terrible system of service at the first bar we went to, because it reveals the poor business practice down here. I literally spent 40 minutes standing in line to buy two rounds of beers, although it is probably why I am hangover free today, but time is money and I could have consumed more in that time while I stood in line. They ran a system in which you buy a ticket, then go get your beer; which might make sense at a music festival with thousands of people, but it was a small bar with few customers, none of which were happy about waiting for the bar to refill the register tape to get a ticket while the bartenders stood idly by. Quite a contrast from the States where each bar has a scantily clad females circling the bar feeding the patrons jello shots as fast as they can consume them.

However, constructed in 1900, the building was interesting; a marbel floor spiraled up three floors to relatively isolated rooms with high ceilings, (where I'm sure many Porteños make out with each other; they are not concerned about public displays of affection, in fact, it seems it is expected.) The main bar below is a narrow room with a painting of a diplomatic looking Asian man being stabbed in the chest. (I just had to add that because it just weird)

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