We took another trip down town to try and buy shoes. Viv was determined to buy Flabella, because she liked them and they fitted. We had tried the shop twice on Saturdays so now we tried Tuesday. It was still closed up. We were not the only customers looking longingly through the steel mesh. Another couple tried, failed and went into Darcos. Unlike us they had more success in Darcos, because, I think, they were looking for dance sneakers.
We crossed the road again back to Las Marianas. Suipacha 256 was also closed. Viv almost bought some shoes in Las Marianas last week, so worth a try. I am not sure if the lady, at first, recognized us, but she seemed happy to bring out the same shoes all over again. Viv also tried on some black t-bars with a higher heel. She loved the T-bars but the snake skins were more comfortable. Our shop lady had seen this indecision last week and perhaps that prompted her “do you a deal for the two” she said in Spanish “how much” I asked. Well it was a saving of a tenner, too much temptation for Viv. The deal was done.
I wonder how much custom she wins, by being open and willing to deal, while the fashionable shops opposite lose by not giving a damn about their customers?
Whilst in town we could hear the familiar sound of locals banging pots. We had no idea what this protest was about but it was stopping the collectivos. This meant that the subte was crowded out for our journey down to Nuevo Chique. At the back of the train was a group of Americans. As always there was a know it all leader. At Callao station she led them to the starboard door and said “this is our stop we need to get of this side”. Oblivious to the train standing there and the platform by the other door. I think I shouted something like “no you don’t” as they looked confused at the people leaving the train behind them. Don’t you just love it when someone’s bubble bursts?
Nuevo Chique had a strange feeling today. We both had a great time with hardly a missed tanda, but there were loads of tourists. The couples end was packed and there were tables of eight or more. Another table of four women was sharing one taxi dancer and down the room were many women unable to get a dance. As I have said before, this is not my milonga and they are not my responsibility, I have a whole bunch of ladies to keep happy. Failure to do this will bring its own problems. Still it was good to return to good dancing for us. My floor craft was tested though, all these tourists made my life difficult, I was not the only one who said “they should leave the milongas to us locals”.
We stopped off at El Revolucionario again for beer. Still feeling peckish after the nibbles I asked for a menu, this time it did not have the salads on, I asked the girl if there was another “si” she said and just looked at me. I have no idea what she thinks I asked, but whatever I ask I always get the same answer. In the end we just asked for empanadas, even then we did not get exactly what we asked for, but the girl was so pleasant we could not complain.
On the bus home we met one of the tango ladies. It is so rare here to meet someone outside of the milonga, in this city of 14 million people the milongueros are a very small percentage.