Lois has adventures
Hola,
Sorry we haven’t been in touch, we’ve been traipsing around the city, swimming and sunning. Yesterday, we walked what seemed like a zillion blocks to get to an “artist’s center.” We expected to find galleries, etc. Instead, there was a woman selling the same jewelry that we see in the street fairs in New York, some old pieces of furniture, and no paintings. To get there, we passed shop after shop, each having liquidation sales—I expect that they have satellite branches in Times Square. Underwear stores all in a row sporting thongs and teeny-weeny bras. All of the clothes look nice at first glance, then you discover random pieces of lace attached to them in odd places, or sequins, or strange sayings or drawings. According to these stores, no one in all of Buenos Aires wears a size larger than a 4. At one point, I tried to buy a cute skirt from a woman selling clothes on the street—she just shook her head at me and directed me to a green muu muu. That day was not sunny, so after our disappointing cultural tour, we went to the movies. These movie theaters sell only reserved seats and let you in a few minutes before the movie starts. It’s neat.
Our major disaster happened when Dad left his ATM card in the ATM machine at the bank. By the time we realized it, the bank was closed, so I tried to call our ridiculous bank in New York. Their so-called “24 hour emergency service” consists of a recorded message telling that no one was available until normal banking hours. So we spent the night checking our bank balance to see if someone had found the card and was prancing around BA buying Flat Screen TVs with our bank card. The next day we were at the bank at the break of dawn with a note explaining what had happened and asking if anyone turned in our card. (I wrote the note after going to Google translator to get the Spanish right.) Then, it occurred to Dad that if we went in and slipped a note to a teller, they might think we were bank robbers and we’d wind up in jail. So, Dad and I showed it to a guard who directed us to a bank officer type. Lots of people were in line ahead of us, so we mumbled and grumbled until it was our turn. No one turned in the card. Then I called the Flushing Savings Bank and told a human being that I wanted to report a lost ATM card. She asked when it was lost and when I told her, she said “You should have reported it last night!” If it wasn’t for the expense of the call, I would have gone into a rant, but we just reported it and called it a day. By the way—no one bought a flat screen TV.
Thanks to you, I have been suffering from an enormous bellyache—on Super Bowl Sunday we ran out and bought a ton of junk food which we ate while watching the game on Sling Media. Funny thing is that by the fourth quarter, we discovered that it was being shown on Spanish TV. Of course, the play-by-play was in Spanish, so we thought we’d get the sound from Slingo and watch on a larger screen. Well, the plays on Spanish TV happened about 2 minutes before we saw the same play on Slingo. Had we known that, we might have been able to organize some kind of betting thing ala The Sting. Although, no one here cares about US football.
Our friend, Susie, from our days in Boston is coming Saturday with her husband. She is absolutely a mirror image of me. I keep getting emails asking if we have hangers, an iron, and many other items that are common in all cities and BA is a city. Then, she needs to know what clothes to bring — for her and her husband. I just tell her to bring summer stuff. She wrote me today that her husband has banned her from wearing shorts. She also needs to know if she needs to bring flip flops and although I have explained to her how to hire a car service at the airport, she keeps on asking me how to get a cab. Of course, I wrote her to bring towels, TUMS, and Zantac. Dad went nuts when he learned about the towels and I had to tell her to forget about them.
We have found an open top hop-on, hop-off tour bus, and although I think we have explored the whole city we are taking a tour. Perhaps we can write off this trip as a business trip because Dad will see how these buses work in another city. By the way, he is tearing his hair out because although my Spanish is preposterous, I keep on talking to people in the elevator and sometimes on the street. Today, there were 3 post-college age Americans at the pool and I had to swear not to attempt to engage them in conversation. It was a struggle, since at one point, I think I heard them talking about cash-cab. But I kept quiet.
I have been following your Facebook communication with the IRS—has that not been straightened out yet or are you just venting. And what is your issue with Citibank? How come you didn’t offer to set up a web site or something for them.
I must go now and dress for dinner—jeans is now my dinner costume.
Love,
Mom and Dad
PS I forgot to tell you that Dad is completly obsessed with Angry Birds. He is now up to the Boomerang bird. He says “What else do you expect me to do, we don’t go clubbing and I’m not gay.”
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