Debauchery in the Docks
The day starts with a City Tour on a coach. We drive around the various districts / zones and get our bearings. We nip out at the La Recolta Cemetery for a speedy whistle stop tour. The place is awesome and I thoroughly plan to go back for a longer stay. No grass here, this place is just a myriad of tombs and crypts along narrow passageways and is littered with creepy Gothic angelic statues. It's a film set for "The Omen" if I ever saw one. It's also crawling with cats - a black and white one follows me persistently. I mention to Isi that the cats eat the dead people. She says they "*are*" the dead people and carry the souls of the re-incarnated. "Great," I think, "I'm being followed by a dead person."
Next stop, La Boca, the home of Tango. It is here that Tango was created and flourished many years ago. It's about men dancing with each other as they eagerly waited in line for prostitutes during an influx of dock workers. Large Tango effigies on the balconies of the colourful houses depict the scene. Okay, so the place is a tourist trap but it is bright, colourful and full of energy. It has a vibe.
Isi gets most of our truck to meet up for 19:00 for dinner. She ensures she has a full body massage before hand to deal with the potential stress. Good thinking Bat Girl! Lloyd takes the lead and charges down Av 9th de Julio (the widest street in the world). We pass one good restaurant after another and see plenty more nestled down the side streets. No one knows what Lloyd is looking for. We ponder outside one place, and feeling the tension in the group I politely tell Lloyd, "We're staying." Dinner (beef medallions & salad - the day's special) was pleasant and the several beers and the whole bottle of white I consumed complemented it nicely!
The conversation turns to lap dancing and strippers. Lynn, a naive and innocent Chinese looking girl, claimed she had never seen one... so a plan is formed. Upon leaving the restaurant I seek out a dodgy looking man at an intersection who is more than happy to guide me and my guests to the strip club he's touting. Dauk, Lynn, Isi and I enter but no matter how hard we try, we can't convince Lloyd (bless) and Michelle to join us. We descend the stairs to the dingily lit saloon bar below. The decor is fantastic, a neon representation of the New York sky line splattered against one wall and giant plastic molded poker cards are embedded in the ceiling, Intimate, yet colourful, sofas are dotted around and mingles well with the modern electronic music. During a bustling and heated evening I truly think the place could be a venue to be reckoned with. But as it was, it was dead. Only us four punters there.
Headstrong Isi charges in and gets a price - 30 pesos (£5) each for drinks and a girl for 3 songs. She makes absolutely certain that we're to pay no more. Fantastic, I grab a whiskey served in the usual ½ pint measure. We move round the corner with a stripper and Lynn, being the happy conversationalist she is, starts chatting to her about the usual:
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How many kids do you have?
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How old are they?
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What do and don't you like about your body?
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Have you thought about implants?
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etc...
We stop the embarrassment and let the girl begin her show (to Britney Spears unfortunately). Lynn sits there like an old lady in a tea shop; bolt upright, legs & knees together holding her purse on her lap. I willed her to have little tartan zip-up booties to complete the picture! Our girl was skinny, flat chested and went through her staged and well practiced routine - working her way around the group. We all cheered as Dauk got stroked around his nether regions. Then, whilst being straddled, Isi perks up like a startled muppet, turns to me and yells, "Can I touch her?" and grabs some arse! I was in no position to answer for I was already bare chested and topless after a full frontal nipple massage (it had to be, she has no chest remember?). The girl strips down to a G-String (wot no naked chicks?) and the show finishes a song early. We order more free drinks and demand more show. They oblige on both counts but then have the cheek to demand more money (240 pesos); drinks for the stripper. "No!" screams Isi, "We're not paying." She's furious that the surcharge wasn't mentioned at the start when she explicitly went to great lengths to ascertain there wouldn't be anymore charges. "That's a rip off!" she continues, "Steve, get dressed, down everyone's drinks, we're leaving." I duly do as I'm told and the four of us walk out.
My recollection of the rest of the night is sketchy at best - I was very, very, very drunk. The girls put it down to the bottle of white wine. I put it down to the whiskey. But no-one is in any doubt that I drank a lot. Here's what I can piece together:
The sensible ones go to bed whilst Isi and I wake up Michelle and drag her out to the bars in the Docks. The poor girls then had to deal with some of my endearing drunken qualities. Like when I was repeatedly banging my head on the table. Isi put her hand in the way. I stop and stare at the table with a befuddled expression, attempting to work out where else on the table I can bang it. I can't, so I stop. Isi goes to the toilet and a frightened Michelle looks on in horror as I do handstands over the rails by the side of the Dock. I failed to impress. Or fall in the river. But all is good and they're both still taking to me!
The evening ended with Isi and I wandering down the magnificent Av 9 de Julio looking for more bars. We are the hardcore. Bed for 04:00.
Posted by Steve Eynon