It was my first date in Buenos Aires. Actually, I wasn't sure it was a date at first. I'd met the guy because he was renting a room and I was looking for a place to stay. So when he invited me back to his apartment, I thought it might be to see where I would live when his current tenant moved out.
Our idea of personal space was different, or was he coming on to me? I wasn't sure, but one thing I was sure of was that something smelled downright awful. As we stood in the kitchen eating strawberries and sipping vodka, I thought "geez, this kitchen reeks." At least I hoped it was his kitchen since he was moving closer and closer, although I didn't think I would want to rent a room from him anymore.
Then we moved to the living room. But the smell followed and now I was sure he was going to kiss me. He'd shown me the entire apartment and there really wasn't much left to do but kiss or leave. So I left.
When I got home, wouldn't you know the smell followed me. I'd stepped in dog poop, traipsed it all over his house and blamed him. Moral of the story, when in Buenos Aires, watch where you step.
In my neighborhood there's a campaign to keep the streets clean. The streets are still filled with every type of dog poop you can imagine, and on the wall that says "This is our neighborhood, let's all work together to keep it clean," graffiti will soon overwrite the message. Oh well.
2 comments:
ugh-ah!
not a pleasant experience, haha.
i hate it when people don't curb their animals. no wonder people never look up at the buildings of cities. we're all too busy looking out for doo-doo on the streets!
O dios mio!
I *almost* had something like that happen in Italy.
Glad I came across your blog. :-)
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