My Walk Home

I'm refuse to pay for a cab unless in a group or I've got miles to go with bags and all. If I'm not crunched for time you won't find me on a bus either. I prefer walking because it's the best way to get to know a city. Plus it gives me time to be thoroughly entertained by my inner monologue. 

So as if the title didn't give it away, you are well informed that I'm walking. But where and when? Buenos Aires. 4 AM. Trouble is brewing. 

I've heard countless horror stories of muggings, theft, beatings, and all other sorts of shady activity associated with Buenos Aires. When is it my turn? I'm now in my 3rd stint here and have not one horror story of my own. Super jealous. Perhaps tonight is the night.

Faced with what is already a 30 min walk home through a less than friendly neighborhood, I can't be bothered to reroute along more pleasant grounds. Knowing full well the hostilities that may await, I arm myself with the only thing around that can double as way to make myself look even more hardcore and as a deadly weapon. With my toothpick perfectly inserted in my mouth at the most menacing angle I set forth. 

With fantasies playing out in my mind of how I will soon become the most deadly man in the world with a toothpick I find the darkest street possible and go for it. Gringo begging for problems.

As soon as the two dudes in trenchcoats materialized at the other end of the street I immediately loathed the moment this sounded like a good idea. But it was too late. Walking towards each other, I knew a clash was imminent. What would their preferred mode of robbery be? How would I react? If things got rough it was two on one. No amount of deadly toothpick training could save me now. 

As they approached perfectly in sync, I could now see the whites of their eyes peering at me from under their hoods. At once, with flawless execution, they both pulled back their coats, reached in with the other hand, and each quickly produced the weapon with which they would do their wicked deed. I was equally lightning quick with my draw.

So there I was staring down matching barrels of a pair of...... cell phones? All I was shot with was awkward glances as they proceeded to make their calls. I decided I had better repocket the cash I had already whipped out as an offering of surrender.

Disaster averted. Realization made. I would have made that way too easy if those had been real criminals. Next time will be different. Next time didn't wait long to arrive.

A couple deserted blocks later, a large man, with perhaps the world record for facial piercings, broke free from the shadows and rushed at me with a special kind of crazy in his eye. I fumbled to ready my toothpick for a counter attack which was difficult seeing as is had fallen from my mouth who was preparing a terrified scream. This wild man wasted precious little time in demanding my wallet. But wait. My Spanish isn't great and that demand for a wallet sounded like it might have actually been an inquiry as to if the 59 bus stopped nearby. 

Did I really look like I would know that? I'm standing there fiddling with a large splinter, mouth agape and a freshly pissed pair of underpants. I obviously don't concern myself with trivial facts about bus 59.

Yet again spared a horrific tragedy. Over the course of the next few uneventful blocks I was beginning to make a few discoveries about myself and my true feelings towards being robbed and/or beaten. But before I could settle on anything concrete, it happened.

There I was on a lonely street corner waiting politely for my good time to cross sign. Toothpick casually dangling from my lips. That's when I heard it. More accurately, that's when I felt it. The hot breath of Buenos Aires wrath on my neck was unmistakable. But how could this be? I had just looked over my shoulder and confirmed my isolation. Now not one but two, no, three figures had stealthily flanked me and were now literally breathing on my neck, ready to make their move.

Showtime. I had to get it right this time. This was the real deal. With an elegance and swiftness not seen this side of the equator in years, I quickstepped into a spin maneuver while transferring my weapon from mouth to hand, thus becoming combat ready. Possibly could have even been a flip in there. It was all a blur.

There I was now face to face with the three most evil...... 14 year old girls in need of a lighter I had ever witnessed? What is this all about? First of all, why are you even out at this hour? Second, what would possess you to think that sneaking up behind someone and breathing on them is the best way to ask for a light? They don't even know how close they came to getting shish kabobed on my weapon of choice. Seriously, not cool. And no, I didn't have a lighter on me. Just a shiny new heart attack to go along with that wet pair of pants. Roar!

The last few blocks home is when I decided for sure: I don't actually want to be in a robbery/beating situation, no matter how sweet the story might be. And if it has to happen, I'm much better off forking over my 30 pesos, and running into the night than trying to become the world's most deadly man with any sort of teeth cleaning device.

So, Buenos Aires, if you're going to do it, just do it already and quit playing with me.