Roberto Jeremías Bútler on Friday, March 13, 2009 at 4:31pm
Hola todos! I'm just here, still adjusting to life in a foreign country. Everything is different, the sounds, the smells, the people, the nightlife, the language, everything... and I absolutely love it. Week 2 was pretty damn interesting, so here's a recap.
24 Hour Locksmith- Most profitable business ever?
So, after a long tiring day of walking around Buenos Aires, I finally return home. I was planning to go over to my friend Oliver's house for his birthday party, but something terrible happened. Here in Argentina, some doors automatically lock behind you if you shut them... I was going to let my friend Rodrigo out, and when I did, I accidently grabbed his keys instead of mine because all keys here look the same. PS, all the keys are HUGe and look like skeleton keys, like magical keys that are supposed to open things like a hidden chest full of gold, a secret passage, etc, not an apartment building! Anyways, I realized my mistake, so we tried to think of different solutions ranging from breaking into my apartment with a wire, calling the landlord (who didn't have a spare set of keys?), to scaling the wall and opening my window. Needless to say, none of these worked. My friend went out to find a locksmith while I just kinda sat in the hall, no shoes and in the dark. Even worse, in Argentina, there's always a bit of an issue with security, so people don't feel very safe with having random people just hanging around in the halls near their apartment building. I felt bad because I was just sitting there in the hall ,scaring everyone shitless who came up the stairs to find a foreign shoeless man, sitting at the top of the stairs in the dark. Anyways, the locksmith finally came and unlocked my door within about 15 minutes. Then, the most ridiculous thing ever happened. Here's the conversation, translated of course:
Rob: How much?
Locksmith: Yeah, that'll be 325 pesos. Oh wait, its Saturday, and it's night, so there's an additional 100% surcharge.
Rob: What?? (Ok children, for those who don't know, 650 pesos is ALOT of money to pay for a locksmith. Some people here spend 650 pesos a month for rent!! 650 pesos = 200 dollars, but the buying power of 650 pesos is HUGE)
Locksmith (w/ a stone cold face): Yeah, sorry. You live in Recoleta, so of course I'm going to charge you more. We charge based on the area of town that you live in. If you lived somewhere cheaper, of course I'd charge you less.
At this point, three things became very apparent to me. 1) This wasn't a joke 2) Price discrimination in Argentina is A-OK, and 3) I was kinda fucked
Rob: Ok, wow, well since I don't carry around 650 pesos with me, I'll just pay with my card.
Locksmith: Sure, but we'll have to charge you 40% extra for that too.
Rob's thoughts: Wow, really? Who is this guy?
At this point, the situation was so ridiculous that it became comical and I began to chuckle...
Rob: Ok, well I won't do that. Can I just pay in American dollars? The exchange rate right now is 3.6 pesos to 1 dollar.
Locksmith: Sure. But (of course there's always a but) I can only change it at 3.2 pesos to the dollar.
Not willing to lose 80 pesos, nor pay by credit card for obvious reasons, I went down, pulled 650 pesos out of the ATm, and sent the locksmith on his way. My Argentine friends have told me that a locksmith here costs roughly 80-100 pesos. Awesome.
I told my realtor (who has become a good friend oddly enough) about the incident, so she told me that we should go report it to the customer defense, similar to the better business bureau. The way things work in this country, I pretty much guessed that I'd be wasting my time... Anyways, she called the locksmith four days later, only to find out that the address that was on the receipt didn't exist, and the number didn't work as well. Oh well, I guess I'm not getting my money back, but at least I've learned a very valuable lesson.
Yesterday:
Ok, what I hope to do is just start writing daily instead of weekly. I want to document all of my experiences because it's so awesome, so here's my attempt at describing yesterday's madness.
For those of you who don't know, my best friend Rachel is here in Argentina visiting me for a month! Anyways, we woke up at around 1pm, and took the metro to the Microcentro. Upon arrival, we went to an internet cafe and put our names on the guestlist for Club 69, one of the hottest Thursday night clubs in BA. Oddly enough, we got a coupon that gave us a free beer and a free hot dog if we got there before 3 am. What super posh nightclub also gives hot dogs out as promos? I mean, it makes sense because drunk people are hungry, but when I think upscale nightclub.. I think Grey Goose, not Oscar Meyer. Anyways, we walked around the city a bunch, and stopped to have lunch/dinner with my friend Rodrigo at this restaurant. It was around 6pm, and we were the ONLy ones in the restaurant. Argentines don't eat until around 11pm, so 6pm is ridiculous. And when I say only ones in the restaurant, I'm not kidding. Anyways, for 19.50 pesos ($5.34 or 4 euros for my European readers) we got: A choice of any drink (including wine), a nice size steak, fries or salad, a choice of dessert, and a tea or a coffee. Insane. $5.34?!?
After returning home and resting, Rachel and I took a taxi out to a pool hall to meet my American friend Adam and his friends. We drank, drank, drank, and prepped ourselves for a wild night at Club 69. My friend Martin came and joined us, and we hopped in another taxi to go to Club 69. Apparently, since we got there after 3 (people go clubbing LATE here), we missed the guest list. They wanted 50 pesos to get in, and since it didn't come with a free drink, nor a free hot dog, we peaced out and went to the wildest club in the Southern Hemisphere (bold statement, but true), AmeriKa. It definitely lived up to its reputation. Martin, Rachel, Adam and I danced like crazy all night, jumping up and down, screaming.. I loved it. There were so many people, similar to nightclubs in Ibiza. We left the nightclub at 6... Rachel had bloody feet for some reason, but I guess that means we had a good time. On the way home, we stopped to get hot dogs. The lady who was selling the hot dogs told us that only 2 were ready, and the other one wouldn't be ready for five minutes or so. Not willing to wait, we decided to just take two, but magically the 3rd hot dog was ready. I'm sure it was completely undercooked, but when its 6 am, you're hungry and your friends have bloody feet, undercooked hot dogs are the least of your concerns. Anyways, for some reason I started kissing the lady selling the hot dogs. I don't think she was having any of it, but I was in kind of a touchy feely (read: creepy) mood, so I just leaned over the counter and planted a big one on her.
We returned home at 6 am, opened more wine, and I watched Rachel and Adam play boggle. I decided to be the judge for drunken words that probably didn't exist, but since I only had a Russian-English dictionary, I wasn't much of a help, so I just passed out.
Welcome to Argentina :)
24 Hour Locksmith- Most profitable business ever?
So, after a long tiring day of walking around Buenos Aires, I finally return home. I was planning to go over to my friend Oliver's house for his birthday party, but something terrible happened. Here in Argentina, some doors automatically lock behind you if you shut them... I was going to let my friend Rodrigo out, and when I did, I accidently grabbed his keys instead of mine because all keys here look the same. PS, all the keys are HUGe and look like skeleton keys, like magical keys that are supposed to open things like a hidden chest full of gold, a secret passage, etc, not an apartment building! Anyways, I realized my mistake, so we tried to think of different solutions ranging from breaking into my apartment with a wire, calling the landlord (who didn't have a spare set of keys?), to scaling the wall and opening my window. Needless to say, none of these worked. My friend went out to find a locksmith while I just kinda sat in the hall, no shoes and in the dark. Even worse, in Argentina, there's always a bit of an issue with security, so people don't feel very safe with having random people just hanging around in the halls near their apartment building. I felt bad because I was just sitting there in the hall ,scaring everyone shitless who came up the stairs to find a foreign shoeless man, sitting at the top of the stairs in the dark. Anyways, the locksmith finally came and unlocked my door within about 15 minutes. Then, the most ridiculous thing ever happened. Here's the conversation, translated of course:
Rob: How much?
Locksmith: Yeah, that'll be 325 pesos. Oh wait, its Saturday, and it's night, so there's an additional 100% surcharge.
Rob: What?? (Ok children, for those who don't know, 650 pesos is ALOT of money to pay for a locksmith. Some people here spend 650 pesos a month for rent!! 650 pesos = 200 dollars, but the buying power of 650 pesos is HUGE)
Locksmith (w/ a stone cold face): Yeah, sorry. You live in Recoleta, so of course I'm going to charge you more. We charge based on the area of town that you live in. If you lived somewhere cheaper, of course I'd charge you less.
At this point, three things became very apparent to me. 1) This wasn't a joke 2) Price discrimination in Argentina is A-OK, and 3) I was kinda fucked
Rob: Ok, wow, well since I don't carry around 650 pesos with me, I'll just pay with my card.
Locksmith: Sure, but we'll have to charge you 40% extra for that too.
Rob's thoughts: Wow, really? Who is this guy?
At this point, the situation was so ridiculous that it became comical and I began to chuckle...
Rob: Ok, well I won't do that. Can I just pay in American dollars? The exchange rate right now is 3.6 pesos to 1 dollar.
Locksmith: Sure. But (of course there's always a but) I can only change it at 3.2 pesos to the dollar.
Not willing to lose 80 pesos, nor pay by credit card for obvious reasons, I went down, pulled 650 pesos out of the ATm, and sent the locksmith on his way. My Argentine friends have told me that a locksmith here costs roughly 80-100 pesos. Awesome.
I told my realtor (who has become a good friend oddly enough) about the incident, so she told me that we should go report it to the customer defense, similar to the better business bureau. The way things work in this country, I pretty much guessed that I'd be wasting my time... Anyways, she called the locksmith four days later, only to find out that the address that was on the receipt didn't exist, and the number didn't work as well. Oh well, I guess I'm not getting my money back, but at least I've learned a very valuable lesson.
Yesterday:
Ok, what I hope to do is just start writing daily instead of weekly. I want to document all of my experiences because it's so awesome, so here's my attempt at describing yesterday's madness.
For those of you who don't know, my best friend Rachel is here in Argentina visiting me for a month! Anyways, we woke up at around 1pm, and took the metro to the Microcentro. Upon arrival, we went to an internet cafe and put our names on the guestlist for Club 69, one of the hottest Thursday night clubs in BA. Oddly enough, we got a coupon that gave us a free beer and a free hot dog if we got there before 3 am. What super posh nightclub also gives hot dogs out as promos? I mean, it makes sense because drunk people are hungry, but when I think upscale nightclub.. I think Grey Goose, not Oscar Meyer. Anyways, we walked around the city a bunch, and stopped to have lunch/dinner with my friend Rodrigo at this restaurant. It was around 6pm, and we were the ONLy ones in the restaurant. Argentines don't eat until around 11pm, so 6pm is ridiculous. And when I say only ones in the restaurant, I'm not kidding. Anyways, for 19.50 pesos ($5.34 or 4 euros for my European readers) we got: A choice of any drink (including wine), a nice size steak, fries or salad, a choice of dessert, and a tea or a coffee. Insane. $5.34?!?
After returning home and resting, Rachel and I took a taxi out to a pool hall to meet my American friend Adam and his friends. We drank, drank, drank, and prepped ourselves for a wild night at Club 69. My friend Martin came and joined us, and we hopped in another taxi to go to Club 69. Apparently, since we got there after 3 (people go clubbing LATE here), we missed the guest list. They wanted 50 pesos to get in, and since it didn't come with a free drink, nor a free hot dog, we peaced out and went to the wildest club in the Southern Hemisphere (bold statement, but true), AmeriKa. It definitely lived up to its reputation. Martin, Rachel, Adam and I danced like crazy all night, jumping up and down, screaming.. I loved it. There were so many people, similar to nightclubs in Ibiza. We left the nightclub at 6... Rachel had bloody feet for some reason, but I guess that means we had a good time. On the way home, we stopped to get hot dogs. The lady who was selling the hot dogs told us that only 2 were ready, and the other one wouldn't be ready for five minutes or so. Not willing to wait, we decided to just take two, but magically the 3rd hot dog was ready. I'm sure it was completely undercooked, but when its 6 am, you're hungry and your friends have bloody feet, undercooked hot dogs are the least of your concerns. Anyways, for some reason I started kissing the lady selling the hot dogs. I don't think she was having any of it, but I was in kind of a touchy feely (read: creepy) mood, so I just leaned over the counter and planted a big one on her.
We returned home at 6 am, opened more wine, and I watched Rachel and Adam play boggle. I decided to be the judge for drunken words that probably didn't exist, but since I only had a Russian-English dictionary, I wasn't much of a help, so I just passed out.
Welcome to Argentina :)
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