Just Like a Woman

The next day, Sunday (well the same day, just a few hours later) I get up from a restless three hours of sleep, make my coffee and ring Samy's house to make sure she got home OK and to see how she's feeling. No one answers so I leave a message on the machine. The next day, Monday, I had not heard from her but since she has neither of her tcell phonesnes so I jump on the 152 and jam down to Caminto because I know she's working today, my 38th birthday. I just need to see her... the make sure she's OK, to be with her. Nelida, the woman that runs things down there tells me that she doesn't work until 3PM today, three hours from now. I decide to eat lunch at La Barrica, listening to the same two old guys that are always there, playing tango. I treat myself to two dark micro-brews and eat my lunch in silence, aside from the bitter-sweet tango ballads that Samy loves to sing to me.

After I finish I head back to see Nelida and now Samanth's ex-boyfriend (the most recent one, the young one, the one she placed ninth with in the World Tango Championships) was also waiting for her. So instead of hanging I make my way across the little plaza and peacefully lie in the shade, waiting. She finally arrives after another hour and a half and I barely catch her before she ducks into one of the local eateries to change into her usual tango garb.

"I was just going in to change and then had planned on calling you. I just
got her right this minute from Alejandro's... (her other ex-boyfriend, who
is actually cool and someone I can relate to) but anyways, happy
birthday," she finally spits out, obviously pressed for time. "Look... do you have plans tonight?" I ask, the first time I've spoken to her since she was robbed at knife point less than forty eight hours ago. "No, its your birthday... maybe you have plans with your friends or... whatever you want." Hmmm... she obviously doesn´t really mean that. "I just want to be with you. What time can you come to my place after work?"

"Well," she starts, "I get done at 5:30 and then I have to go home and change and all that and then..." I cut her short, its the same story she always gives me and she never gets back into town until like midnight. "No, no... that´ll take for ever and my birthday will be over. How about you just come over after work? It´s like five minutes from here?"

She shows up at 7PM. All of my flatemates and Vicki have asked me what I want to do for my birthday and I´ve told them sorry, but I want to be with Samantha... but for some reason even I wasn´t convinced this time. But my thought was that we could get some dinner somewhere and then stop by Lelé de Troyja in Palermo, perhaps my favorite place for a drink in BA - a place for lovers. Despite being hip and chic and trendy like every other fucking place in Palermo, its actually beautiful inside, the owners are very, very friendly and I always have a good time.

Leaving the house, Samy wants to get some empanadas, now. We grab a couple from across the street and then head over to the park. It is still early. Sitting on the bench something is now very different. This strange distance cloud of distance decends upon us. Its me, its her... its us here in South America, trying to make something together. Two total opposites. She asks me again what I want to do for my birthday as she chows down on her empanadas.

"Well, I was thinking about getting a bite to eat but it really doesn’t matter. I just want to be with you," I tell her, exasterbated, sounding like a broken record. We sit in silence for what seems like hours. “I don’t know, maybe we can go bowling," I joke. She starts explaining how bowling is really not her thing but if I really want to go, no problem. It was a joke and I really have no interest in bowling whatsoever but I was stuck without a legitimate plan and I couldn’t get her to suggest anything. Argentine woman always let the man make all the decissions... then they can ‘blame’ him later if they don’t like the decission or something goes wrong.

After more awkward silence she complains that she is now getting cold. “HUG ME!” she lazily demands. I hold her close, sheltering her from the wind, feeling so close but oh so far at the same time. “Let’s just go back to the place in front of Retiro, below the English clocktower,” I joke again, confused... conflicted. This is what I wanted for my birthday, but its all wrong now between her and I – and we both know it. We eventually make our way down past the park and jump on the 152 heading across town. I’ve decided to stick with the original plan and we jump off the bus at Plaza Italia in Palermo right in front of Kentucky Pizzeria across from La Rural where Samy placed competed in the World Tango Championships. “How about I grab a quick bite to eat and we go from there?” I offer. "But I thought you weren't hungry," she starts in. "Well..." I sigh, "now I am." We end up actually sitting down and the awkwardness continues to grow. I order two slices of pizza for myself and a draft beer. Samantha orders two slices of pizza also, strange since she just ate but good because I don't have to eat alone.