The cabbie was warm, insightful, articulate, thoughtful, well-read, attentive, kind, and entertaining. He said he was a standup comic, please come to his gig tonight at Privileged Yuppie Bar.
And so for the first time in my life, this post-milonguera actually went to a bar. I hear this is something people do.
And, the report in the great Milonga vs Bar Face-off?
Milonga 0, Bar 0.
Milonga: What? I have to pay a $12 cover charge and I'm not even going to dance?
Bar: What? I have to pay a $12 cover charge in the form of this martini I'm not even going to drink?
Milonga: Oooohh, he's hot. He moves so beautifully. Too bad he's 65.
Bar: Oooohh, he's hot. He's really cute and has a great body and expensive well-tailored clothes. Too bad he the kind of guy who's wasting a Wednesday night at a bar.
Milonga: I would like to be around other human beings and maybe flirt a little. But anybody I meet here is the kind of person I definitely don't want to go home with.
Bar: I would like to be around other human beings and maybe flirt a little. But anybody I meet here is the kind of person I definitely don't want to go home with.
Milonga: Whatever happened to the cabeceo?
Bar: The cabeceo is present in full expert force at every hand.
Milonga: All the women are drop-dead gorgeous Rhodes Scholars and triathletes who run Unicef and save the whales when they're not composing their fifth Grammy-winning albums and baking snickerdoodles. They all look like Ava Gardner dressed by Dolce & Gabbana. And they still can't get a date.
Bar: All the women are normal women trying to make a way for themselves in life. They're not particularly self-possessed or magnificently presented. They're just people.
Milonga: It's cold. I hate this harsh lighting. There's nobody here.
Bar: It's nice and warm. The lighting is soft and warm. There's plenty of people here, and they're all from the social demographic I am programmed to find sexually attractive. Too bad it smells like cheap booze and everyone's getting louder and louder as the night wears on.
Milonga: Dead silence.
Bar: Hello, you look beautiful tonight.
Milonga: Social shunning and rampant ostracism. Beautiful music.
Bar: Warm smiles, encouraging yet respectful eye contact. Awful stand-up.
Milonga: Existence of sex as a force in the universe translates into, hey baby, let's spend ten minutes rubbing up against each other and then get confused while we watch each other spend the rest of the night doing the same thing with lots of other people. We will have no idea where we stand the next time we see each other.
Bar: Existence of sex as a force in the universe translates into, hey baby, let's consume some inhibition-reducing fermented beverages and stand around talking while we size each other up as potential partners. We might then go back to your place and have awkward confusing sex. We will have no idea where we stand the next time we see each other.
Milonga: Hey, life is hard and scary sometimes. Everybody needs oxytocin, endorphins, and dopamine.
Bar: Hey, life is hard and scary sometimes. Everybody needs dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin.
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