Todo sobre mi desmadre

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Last night I was not looking forward to work. It was a Tuesday, meaning no one would be at the bar, and yet Julia and I would be forced to remain until 2 am.  We started the night by re-decorating our tip jars in hopes to “inspire.” Little did we know we would receive more tips Tuesday night than we had any other night of our bartending careers!

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Beginning at 9pm, we began our Tuesday ritual “Ladies Night,” a tactic to get more people in the door. “Ladies Night” means all girls –or those dressed así— receive drinks every hour, on the hour. But apparently “ladies” don’t like Tuesdays. Last week was the one drinking, coffee that is, cup after cup after cup to help me stay awake until the wee hours on Wednesday morning. So when I got to work last night, I prepped myself a mug-full, expecting the history of last Tuesday to repeat itself.

well BOY WAS I IN FOR IT. Apparently last Tuesday was all a lie because last night ended up being one of the best nights of my life.

Three groups of boys filled the bar –one group from Canada, one from Chile, and the other from Brazil. The night started after the crew finished off a few tornados {a really yummy drink de lima, azucar, mente, Coca Cola, and Inkaria….which I honestly don’t even know how to describe what it is}. Bitter about the fact they lacked the genetic packaging to qualify for free drinks, I made them a deal: strut their best catwalk encima del bar and I’d be sure to accolade them with something strong after their performance.

I didn’t think any of them would actually do it. But the Brazilians took the lead {mental note: brazilians be cray cray}, and soon the other locos followed.

Each boy took it as an honor to strut across the bar –swinging their hips, dropping it low, and batting their eyelashes at the crowd. I waited for each at the end of the bar, and if their dance was sufficient and pleased the crowd {which they ALL were}, I gave them drinks. As it got later, the boys decided to transform our make-shift catwalk into a make-shift stage, as more and more chicos piled atop the bar to out-dance the other. What followed was the most hilarious all-boy, Coyote Ugly-style dance party Ive ever witnessed.

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we are…THE DANCERS

Instead of closing the bar at 2, we stayed until 3:30 laughing, talking, dancing –so much so that the security guard had to come upstairs to tell us to take it down a notch. His face as he entered the bar was a mix of confusion and annoyance –confusion at the fact that their were so many people in the bar on a Tuesday, and annoyance……. at the fact that there were so many people in the bar on a Tuesday.

After we left {or more like got kicked out by security}, I headed to Temple with Nahuel and our newfound Brazilian friends, Gabriel, Michael, and Gustavo. We were shortly followed by the entire crew of Chileans and Brazilians from the bar.

Temple {pronounced Templo..silly spanish} is a boliche/discoteca/club -however youd like to call it- and by FAR my favorite one in all of Cusco. When you walk inside, it appears like youre inside a giant enclosed plaza. The first few times I went, I thought it was outdoors until I realized there was actually a roof above me {and then it all made sense why I wasn’t freezing my culos off in the club}.

Anyways, by that time it was 4 in the morning, when things were just about picking up. I was the first to walk in, saw there werent too many people inside, and then seconds later once everyone from Milhouse had entered, the boliche was FULL. It was so fun because everywhere I looked to dance, I found a friend.

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da crew {I’m in the bottom right; my coworker Davied, center, in the beanie and Nahuel to his right}

Gabriel and I were the last to leave, and took our time walking back attempting to avoid the rain by huddling under every awning we reached. oh and THEN we spotted a doner kebab stand squished between two buildings {HUZZAH!!!!!!!!}. We ordered two of the little old mans recommendations, chicken and falafel kebabs, and then proceeded to shove our faces with them as we sat against a wall in Plaza San Francisco speaking in spantuguelish {a mix of spanish, portuguese, and english..duh}. After satisfying our superhuman-hunger, we sprinted back to Milhouse and I could not have been happier to put on my fuzzy socks and get to bed to dream of future falafels to come.

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The thing about traveling and meeting new people is that all of your inhibitions are released. I danced the night away, with no worries about ANYTHING, and had the most interesting, spontaneous conversations with new friends. All your joys are amplified, and your worries diminished. Theres a sad part though too….just as fast as you make friends, you separate from them. They continue on their way, and you on yours. I had so much fun with Gabriel the past few days. He was so cool-weird and reminded me so much of my friends from home, which was such a comfort {shoutout to 7th & Flo by the way!!}. I laughed so hard Im pretty sure I should have a six pack by now {dont know why its not showing up yet}, learned some portuguese, and we had so many conversations I just didnt want to end. But now, hes on his way back to Brazil, and eventually will attempt to read this from hundreds of miles away as soon as I send the link over. Its hard to grasp…the concept that those friends will leave and you wont ever physically be with them again. But also, thats the cool thing about life: its all one large cycle, and people filter through to help you along the way.

Anyways, that was my incredible night, and the incredible time I had with my new friend, Gabriel. Im gonna stop this sentimental blabber now. Im hungover and need to go find me some freaking lomo saltado o algo asi. 

Besos, my gente

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