The best way to seamlessly transition into part three, is to just do it. If you didn’t read part’s one and two, take a step back and start here.
After dinner, I joined Guga and her dad for the ride back to his house where Claudia (one of Guga’s oldest friends) would soon be.
I sat outside on the back patio with Roberto and Cecilia for about ten minutes as Maica chased lizards around the dark walls of the outdoor patio.
Not many words were exchanged until an old song came on, which sounded like Frank Sinatra, with whom they were both familiar. After a short debate, we all agreed it was, in fact, Frank on the radio.
Claudia arrived and the three of us went to an Irish bar called Kilkenny (all I could think of was South Park. There were no tables open, so were were just going to stand and drink. We went upstairs to the bar and two guys offered to let us sit with them, so we did.
Had a few beers and listened to a band whose lead singer did an awesome job covering various American (familiar) songs from artists like Bob Marley, The Beatles, AC/DC, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Metallica, U2 and Korn. Thankfully, I didn’t hear any Nickleback.
Fifteen songs later, we decided to go to another bar down the street, so I paid our tab and we left. Three 1.1 liter beers (me), three Smirnoff Ices (Guga), and a Coke (Claudia, aka our driver): $15.
The bar they wanted to take me to was closed, so we immediately decided to check out a few others down the street. One was a karaoke bar, which was all “kids” (18-20 year-olds). Negative, Ghost Rider. The next one was a club called Kaboom, but we didn’t get bombed.
We did drink, dance and laugh, though.
Every guy in that place was staring, because some American (equinsu ocha1) was dancing with not one, but two locals. Well.
There were plenty of young people at this bar as well, and after about two hours, one of them (XY) approached Claudia. Then after she danced with him for a song or two, he gave up and left. Strike one.
Three more attempted (strike two, three and four) and one even succeeded (bunt) at giving her his number (turn your bat in), which she later joked about “hanging onto if [she] ever gets bored,” on the ride home.
I had no idea who was singing, or what they were singing about, but I could hear a beat, so I danced. At one point, Claudia leaned in and told Guga, “He doesn’t dance like a boy from the States. He’s gooood.”
Around the time Claudia and I felt like leaving (3 a.m.), Guga convinced us to stay, because she had just asked the DJ to play Usher.
Next solution: send the non-hablo American to said DJ with a similar request: “Ultra musica en Inglés, por favor.”
He replied, “Si,” and from my extensive knowledge of Spanish, I knew he said “Si.”
Apparently the only songs he could find, (in Inglés), were “Summer Lovin'” from Grease and a few select songs by Madona. Fail.
Got outside and I was slightly deaf from the musica and barely buzzed because I had danced, (and sweated), so much.
This is a photo of my sweat, not my face…obviously.
I got dropped off at Meli’s house around 4:15 a.m. and sat outside for a few minutes enjoying the weather, before going inside and quietly making my way to Olivia’s room to go to bed.
If you haven’t been following my trip, Olivia lent me her room.
I attempted to watch The Notebook, but fell asleep while Noah and Ally were dancing in the street.
 Ace Ventura