Drunchies with Prostitutes in Buenos Aires

After writing about my little run in with the Visit-X Taxi company, it reminded me of similar experience I had in Buenos Aires. My good friend Rosario visited for 2 weeks after we graduated from college. To celebrate, we took a long weekend trip to Buenos Aires from Santiago…in the beginning of January (South American Summer)! It was like walking through a sauna with a special, surprise of unannounced thunderstorms. Perfect…

Despite this small detail, we had a good time all in all since there’s so much to see and do in Buenos Aires, but one night really stands out for me. We went out to a gay club that I voluntarily forgot the name of, and were ready to hit the dance floor. After the drag show, they announced that there would be no dancing that night! Part of the bar had tables which would have cleared out thus creating the dance floor, and there was no intention of moving a thing around. It was sort of ridiculous, and we weren’t the only ones upset. 

It was just a tad weird being there since there were a dominant number of gay men present. Apparently they didn’t mention that online or we missed that fine detail. We were two of a handful of lesbian women, and I may have been the only straight person present that night. After a couple drinks we left since the vibe wasn’t what we were looking for. 
On our way back to the hotel, drunchies (drunk munchies) kicks in and we embark on a mission for French fries! We walked around downtown Buenos Aires near our hotel, but even our last resort, McDonalds, was closed. We saw one place open, which was right across from a restaurant we had eaten at the day before. 
WE immediately ask the waiter if they have French fries, and he looks confused as to why we would be out so late in search for fries, and says, “Yeah, of course we have French fries”. Later I realized that our drunchies may have been the least confusing part as to why we were there. 
Taking a seat, our very nice waiter jots down our order, brings us our drinks, and we chat with him about the usual – where we’re from, how long we’re in Buenos Aires, etc. He mentions very nonchalantly that usually people don’t come into the restaurant this late. 
As we waited for those delicious fries to come out, Rosario and I began to take a gander and scope the place out. We noticed that there were about three groups of people, and there were a couple things in common with all of the groups – there was 1-2 men in each group, at least one girl dressed in tight, bearing clothing, and a group of girls socializing loudly in the back. When another man walked into the restaurant, one of the girls from the back table got up to greet, meet, and sit with this gentleman, but no one seemed to actually know each other as they sat immersed hushed conversations and flirty bats of the eyes.

Our sorry attempt to capture the moment.
There was a pang of sudden realization: all these women are prostitutes and these men are here to do business! We couldn’t help but have this look on our face that read, “OMG, WTF?! We just had to come here!” as we nervously surveyed the restaurant. 
When our waiter came out with our fries, we quickly argued and urged the other to ask the waiter about the events that were unfolding. What came out was, “So, do these women come here often?” Laughing it off, he told us how this wasn’t “out of the ordinary”. 

Nice touch. 🙂

We fulfilled our drunchies and fry cravings as quickly as possible so no one mistakes us for prostitutes. Cracking up at our stupidity as we walked away, we learned a couple new travel lessons: 
  1. Buenos Aires is almost unbearable in the summer.
  2. Avoid these kinds of “restaurants” and the possibility of being mistaken for a prostitute. 
(Photos are courtesy of my good friend, Rosario)

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