Una Noche en Buenos Aires

Despues del rotundo exito(?) del post "Una Noche en San Francisco" dejo aca la otra historia que escribi. Mi abuela quiere que siga escribiendo cosas como estas... le prometi intentarlo, pero creo que ya no da. YaVeremos.

En este caso, la historia es acerca de una chica que conoci en Enero 2006, justo antes de volverme para USA. Solo que esta vez -por primera vez- me iba por tiempo indeterminado y sin pasaje de vuelta. La historia la escribi en Mayo 2006, una semana antes de recibirme. Despues de la graduacion, me iba a mudar a California y seguir la vida de nomade.

Escribi "Good Luck, Goodbye" pensando en dos cosas: la vida de nomade y ver si podia armar algo que vaya y venga en el tiempo y quede mas o menos interesante. Me acuerdo que cuando le comente la idea a Sheri, me dijo "that's been done a million times". Le respondi que ya sabia eso, pero que lo que queria saber era si yo podia hacerlo. Ahora releo la historia y no se si me salio muy bien que digamos.


Good Luck, Goodbye

Sunday 11a.m.
I woke up freezing; I keep forgetting to turn the air conditioning off during the night. I hate when this happens. My head hurts pretty bad and my rental studio apartment seems different somehow. Two Pinot Noir bottles stand empty over the coffee-table while two riedel glasses lay down in the carpet, next to the couch. I finally pull myself together and stand up already missing the bed. Barely see-able, behind the couch, there is a black bra. I keep walking and find a pack of Trojans in the floor. Did I sleep with someone last night? If so, can I be that stupid not to even remember it? Was I that drunk? Don’t think so… by the way, where is she?

Saturday 2p.m.
Almost a month since the fall semester was finally over and I went back home for the Christmas break. On the down side, the break is almost all gone, and next Wednesday I’ll be flying back to Owensboro. On the upper side, I’ll be doing for the last time. Why did I have to leave on the first place? I know, I convinced myself a million times now, the economic crisis, and the whole better education opportunity in the U.S. thing and all that crap; but still, it wasn’t really that bad here.

Sunday 7a.m.
The sound of water pouring down against the sink wakes me up. Its way too hot inside, I thought while seeking for the a/c remote and turning it on and started walking towards the bathroom wondering why there is a remote for everything and how come the one-for-all ones never really work. This amazingly looking girl is brushing her teeth with a pink tooth-brush. She checks me out through the mirror for a second, smiles, and keeps minding her own business. She is fully dressed, and her purse is open next to the sink. If she carried her own tooth-brush she knew she wasn’t sleeping at her place. Well, that really ruined the challenge. Why do I keep doing this? I promised myself not to. Damn, I’ll just go back to sleep.

Sunday 1a.m.
I can’t believe she is coming home with me. Still not sure how did I talk her into this. Avoiding confronting myself with the promise of not having one-night stands again I made not that long ago, I open the door and we both walk into the apartment. I know what will happen now. Everybody does. Can’t believe I’m that dumb to keep breaking my own promises. Again. But, if it makes me feel better about myself, why not?

Saturday 3p.m.
The guys pick me up to go to the club. We spent the day playing soccer and just hanging out in the pool as part of my farewell party. Its over 100 degrees now and next week it will be about 15 for me. It sucks having to return to Brescia so soon. Why did I have to leave? Everything was convenient over here. Sort of, anyway, but still not too terrible.

Saturday 11p.m.
It’s just the two of us hanging out for the past couple of hours, she is just stunning. I can spend all my life listening to whatever she has to say about anything. At least that is what I’m thinking now. Either that or my mind keeps searching for a fancy excuse in order to take her to my place. I shouldn’t be doing this; but what the hell, I’ll eventually get over the feeling of guilt.

Saturday 7p.m.
The whole day is going amazing. Buenos Aires definitely is the best city in the world, especially when you are on vacation. But why do I have to leave so soon? No matter how many times I did it by now, the ride to the airport is always hard and, this time, seems harder than usual since I don’t know when I’m coming back. People keep asking me why do I have to go, and telling me that they’ll miss me. Can’t prevent myself of feeling flattered and annoyed at the same time. Annoyed because I’m the only one leaving, everybody else still has each other, and I’ll be the one far away. Also, I started thinking how that sensation contradicts with the one of having no strings attached and been able to fly anywhere in the world with a minute notice; well, actually two hours because airport security is at a high level. Still, having to put everything I own in boxes three times a year sucks. I’ve been living like a nomad for over three years now, which sucks too.

Saturday 9p.m.
“And, also, she is out of your league,” my friend told me.
I kept ignoring him.

Saturday 8.40p.m.
A group of girls enter the house and I saw her. I think she is looking at me. Maybe even smiling at me. Or maybe I just want to think she is.

Saturday 8.59p.m.
- “What possible good come out of this? You are leaving in three days, don’t do it” my friend begged me.
I’m still ignoring him.

Saturday 8.57p.m.
- “I must talk to her,” I said out loud to nobody in particular.
- “Why? What you looking for?” my friend asked me.
- “I have no clue, but if I don’t talk to her I know I’ll regret it.” And I closed my argument, I rested my case, or whatever lousy Grisham reference goes here. He already knows I will never regret something I did, but always regret what I didn’t do.”

Saturday 9.01p.m.
- “What about your promise?” he yelled while I was walking away as something that sounds very similar to a last resource argument pulled out of nowhere.
I ignored him and wondered if the whole thing fulfills me and keeps me happy, at least for a while, why not? Or maybe that’s another lie to myself.

Saturday 9.02p.m.
I walked towards the group of these four giggling girls and introduced myself to them. Walking through a room and introducing yourself to someone you are looking forward to see naked (soon) looking confident but not arrogant is a pretty tough gig. One of the hardest things men are compelled to do.
- “Hi, I’m Alejandro” I said.
- “Erica,” she replied.

Sunday 11.01a.m.
I walked back to my bed; I saw a note next to the TV, “Really had fun. Too bad you are leaving in three days; imagine what if you wouldn’t have to go so soon. Good luck, goodbye”