No baillo bien pourque tengo cahones grandes !

Trip Start Jan 29, 2007
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Trip End May 30, 2007


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Flag of Argentina  ,
Tuesday, February 6, 2007

First day of lessons this week. Couldn┤t concentrate. Am absolutely knackered as got woken up in the early hours by a cat jumping on me in the middle of the night. It scared the shit out of me and then it had the gaul to hide under the bed.

I turned the light on and went to get  it out of the room. I couldn┤t find the bloody thing anywhere! After a few minutes of looking everywhere (even out of the window - 4 storeys up), it dawned on me that I┤d probably dreamt it....seemed so real and quite frankly a riculous thing to dream up.

So why was I so tired?

On Saturday night I┤d arranged to go to a salsa club with the swiss girls from my course. Having no means of contacting anyone, we┤d had to resort to the old fashioned method of arranging to meet at a set time and turning up. So we┤d arranged 12:30am outside the club (no-one goes out till late). So at 12:30am they turned up and we went into the club. There was some lesson on but I couldn┤t understand a word the instructor was saying, so decided to leave the girls to do the rounds on the dance floor. I eventually got up for my one attempt at salsa...and boy did I show those Argentinians....exactly how not to dance!....Damn, wish I d┤ve continued those salsa classes years ago. After embarassing myself on the dance floor and the swiss girls moaning that the blokes were shit at dancing there and realising that most of the clientele were over 50 and not dancing, we decided to shift to a real club. The girls assured me that they knew a good place.

At 2:30, we rolled into ┤Amerika┤. Six pounds entry and free drinks all night."I┤m in heaven" I thought. The Swiss girls got approached by some well-dressed blokes. The blokes then proceded to try and fail to chat up some passing ugly thing and then focused their attention back on the girls (what does this say about the swiss girls?).

Pretty soon the place was heaving and I couldn┤t find the girls. Yet the free beer and the people watching had consumed me, so I stuck around.

I randomly bumped into some canadian guy who was in one of my lessons and he introduced me to his mates. They were a sound bunch of people and made me feel welcome, so I drank muchas cervezas with them and continued to dance the night away.

It was only when the canadian guy kept saying "what goes on in Amerika, stays in Amerika", that it dawned on me that I was in a gay club (The girl-on-girl action that was going on around me had only further affirmed my bellief that I was in heaven...the presence of so many blokes on the dancefloor had just reminded me of  a typical Saturday night at Snobs in Birmingham....not a single construction helmet and handle bar moustache in sight!....and the ˙gly┤ thing had in fact been a bad transvestite). It was only as this notion dawned on me that blokes all round me seemed to be snogging each other and at some point I got chatted up by a Chilean bloke who said he liked it that I avoided eye contact. One of the guys in the group (a gay brazilian diplomat) saved me.

To be fair, there were plenty of straight people there, but most of them were guys swarming around the few straight women there were. Still,  the bunch that I met were a good laugh, knew I was straight and we danced the night away and caned the free beer.

My feet tell me that I must┤ve danced for hours. As the clock hit 7am, they turned the sprinklers on over the dance floor. This was an absolute relief as by now I was sweating my tits off, even moreso than normal. Was absoluetely soaked through, but it was a fantastic end to a random and slightly surreal night.

Only running the gauntlet to leave the club served to dampen the mood slightly. Picture a 30m dark tunnel with people groping each other and then some on both sides. Now you have to get through the middle, but you can┤t move very quickly as there are too many people. You know it┤s just a matter of time before you get groped, but you want to put-off the inevitable. My years of jiu-jitsu training came in useful as my hand went into cock protect mode and managed to fend off a number of potential gropes. Sadly one sliped through the net and succeeded in sexually harassing me, before I escaped, still soaking wet, and took the taxi of shame back to my appartment.

Still all in all it was a very funny night,  a good laugh, great club, and certainly not a night I┤ll forget in a hurry!
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