Buenos Aires takes partying to a new level. Nay, it represents an entirely different partying universe. This metropolis of the southern hemisphere changes all the partying rules. This is a land where night is day, gay is straight, and Joose is replaced by Speed. This is a city where even the grocery store is called Disco. This is a land where I go to clubs in an orange wig and no pants. Actually.
I’d heard a lot about the nightlife in B.A. Yeah, yeah, they eat dinner at 11 and the clubs open at 2 and everyone stays out until 7 or 8 in the morning and sometimes even go to after-hours clubs that are open from like 8 to 11 a.m. Well, I have nothing really revelatory to add, except that everything they say is fucking true. I’ve had several of those nights so far, including last night, so please excuse me if this post lacks my characteristic wit and sharpness.
Last night we went big.
My friend who I’m visiting, her roommates–a Turk, a Brit, and another American–and I all decided, for no really identifiable reason, to wear fluorescent wigs, neon makeup, and day-glo body paint to a club. The venue of choice was Amerika, a gay bar with free drinks all night included n the cover charge (5o pesos, or about $14). We got there early, (around 1 a.m.), because we wanted to make sure we got our money’s worth of booze before the bar got too crowded. Well have no fear, dear reader, we did.
At this point, my wig was being worn by a dude wearing nothing but suspenders and pants.
I wish I could tell you more about this amazing night, but that simply isn’t possible. It went from 1 to 6 a.m. in what felt like 10 minutes and all I can report with 100% certainty is that it was one of the most fun nights of my life.
I can,with only slightly less certainty, tell you a few anecdotes from the night:
-First of all, when you wear outrageous outfits like ours to a gay disco like Amerika, it is likely that you’ll be a big hit. I’m extremely proud to say that several drag queens were jealous of our ensembles. Costume=Automatic party.
-Stage dancing occurred. Several times.
-Most of us (I will not specify whether or not I’m included in this group) had make-out sessions with (apparently not gay…?) patrons of the club.
-By the end of the night, wigs had been commandeered by other people, causing some awkwardness when a wig bobbing above a crowd was used as the sole identifier of a friend, but generally causing more fun and good-natured debauchery.
-”No hablo espagnol,” ironically enough, turns out to be not only a great conversation starter with a Spanish-only speaking man, but also a huge turn-on for some.
-The night ended with a cab driver wearing a pink Marge Simpson-esque wig.
So yes. Amazing night.
I woke up just a few hours ago. Now the sun is setting. And now I need to get in the shower, drink a Speed, and get ready to do it all over.
-Kate
