I was feeling a little down and today I had a few difficult things to do, still no point in worrying about it, just get on with it. Before we set out I made sure we had extra money with us, my credit and debit cards, and most important here, my passport.
Viv had brought a coat with her last time. It was good quality but it belonged to a friend of our daughters and fitted her like a sausage skin. It was totally unsuitable for any of our friends here so she just wanted to put it out with the trash. I was having non of this and said it is far too good to go in the rubbish, I would take it to the ferria around the corner. Now I did not expect much, the shops are full of stuff and I don’t think that they have a rapid turnover. I would be happy for $5 or $10 if not I would take it to the next one and just say “have it”. The guy in the shop looked at it called the lady from the back and she examined it then offered me $30. I tried not to look too pleased as I accepted her offer. No doubt I could have haggled her up, but hey this was going in the bin. I gave Viv the $30 and we set off for town.
I had the location of Monedero Central from the link that Janis had sent me, so that was our next stop. Again Viv had been badgering me to just throw the non functioning card away, but I had a kind of emotional attachment to my card and I know that we use this same type of card in work for the vending machines and there they can recharge them. We found the office, and as usual there was a queue. It did not take long to deal with the two in front of me so soon we stood inside the little glass office. “esta tarjeta no funciona” I said. She held her hand out for the card and I passed it to her. She asked me for my passport (I knew it would come in handy) and said it had $32. She then showed me the new card and said “es el mismo” She put my $32 on it and said “listo”.
Result, two out of three and already $62 up. The next stop we did not think would be so easy: A pair of shoes Viv had bought on our last visit had a wonky heel. She could not sell them and we needed to exchange them at Comme Il Faut. Now Alicia can seem a bit short at times and even I did not think we would have a great success but we went in, anyway.
The girl who met us could not have been more helpful. She tried straightening it up then said she could send it back to the workshop for repair. I asked if we could exchange instead, to which she agreed. So Viv came out with a new pair of Comm Il Faut’s and even Alicia came out and gave us a smile. Unfortunately they do not have the mouse mats any more, but hey on a day that’s going so well it would be churlish to complain.
In the end it was Viv’s idea, every milonga we have been to we have sat together and only danced with those we have arrived with. Tonight though she said “tonight we will sit at separate tables”
I danced the first tanda with her, but after that it was slow for her. It takes time to get known. For me though, mostly, I had little difficulty finding partners. It is the same wherever you go, more women than men and the men choosing only their favourites. I saw one guy ask her to dance, then chicken out when he realised that she was not as short as he was. Still it picked up for her and in the end she had a good night, more dances here than she sometimes gets in Manchester where we are known.
I found the floor difficult in Sueno Porteno, a lot of barging and bumping. I worried that it was my inexperience and the women would not want to dance with me again. Later when I did a Vals with Viv, I asked her if it happened with other men. I was relieved when she said “yes”.
I had some interesting conversations with my dance partners; They cannot grasp that Wales is a different country that shares its law making and executive with England, but has a separate language all of its own.
The night, I think, was a success. I finished with a milonga, with a lady who said she did not milonga, typically she was too modest.
Time for a long walk home, to be passed by our collectivo around the halfway point. He passed us (at a stop I should add) like his arse was on fire. Good job I have learned that there are some very considerate drivers here, or I might make the assumption that they are all arseholes. Fortunately they are not.