The Last Supper in BsAs...
May 14, 2007


Whoa. Should Natalie and I take tonight as a sign? Even though I’m not ready to leave yet maybe it is time for us to go. How else
would you feel after having a taxi driver yelling “F&%# YOU!” in Spanish right in your face and
then having the friends that you’re
supposed to meet at the restaurant never show up???

Of course, a bit more detail needs to be provided.

When the taxi driver picked us up to take us to the restaurant, we could tell that something was a bit weird about him. But he was
older. We weren’t going to hold senility against him. He knew where he was going and that was good enough for us. Nothing too
eventful about the five minute ride. Oh no. The eventful nature of the trip would come after the ride when we were stopped outside
of the restaurant.

It was about 6 pesos for the ride. I gave him a 20-peso bill. Within a second or so he was waving around a 2-peso bill while raising
his voice to us. Weird. We thought he wanted another 2-peso bill. We thought this was so that he could give us 15-or-so pesos back
in change (the math wasn’t really adding up but we were trying to appease him). Natalie then thought he was giving us the 2-peso
bill he was waving around so she took it. Now he is yelling within centimeters of her face. We are telling him to give us our 20-pesos
back. He tells us that he has no idea what we are talking about. Natalie (who is fluent in Spanish) is telling him that I gave him a 20.
He is saying that I never did. He is still in our faces. Natalie was keeping her cool (she was actually figuring out a way to not have
both of her hands full in case she needed to quickly get out of the car) and I was yelling at the mother f-er. At the point where I was
like “Nat, let’s get the f*&% out of here”, this was when the cab driver basically yelled to us in Spanish “F&*$ YOU. GET OUT!!!
(translated by Natalie). When we got out of the taxi, we both had so much adrenaline (and not really the good kind) running
through us. I mean this taxi driver was livid. And keep in mind, he scored an extra 14 pesos on the ride –
we should have been the
ones who were livid. Instead, I couldn’t help but think that one-minute later he would have inflicted physical harm on us.

We needed wine the minute we got into the restaurant. Emily and Dave weren’t there yet but we decided we were allowed this
bottle of wine while we waited. Wine was served and now we were just waiting for the others to arrive.

And we kept waiting.

And waiting.

By 9:45pm, I told Natalie that I thought it would be okay if we ordered (we got there at 9pm). It was weird that they weren’t there
as we made plans just this afternoon to meet up at 9pm for dinner. Hmmm…

Then Natalie informed me of something. My email that I forwarded with the restaurant info went to her spam account. She has a
Yahoo account. Dave (who I sent the info to) has a Yahoo account. We realized that the emails I sent probably never went to his
inbox. I need to talk to my friends at Yahoo about this. A Jen Nathan email should
never be considered unwanted spam.

We spent the night drinking and laughing about how non-ideal of a night this ‘last night’ of our time out here was. But
because of
the taxi drama and the dinner miscommunication it almost turned out to be a fitting end for my trip – it just shows that you never
know what to expect when you are on the road.

When we got back to our B&B I decided to tell Cecil (the guy who works here) about our experience. The taxi driver would be
somewhat trackable since Cecil called a taxi company that sent him to pick us up. He was getting a bit heated with the dispatcher in
our defense. After he got off the phone, we thanked him for at least attempting to do something about it. We got a free bottle of
wine from the restaurant we ate dinner at (for paying in cash instead of by credit card) and we decided to give it to him. After all, he
could have blown off our situation. Instead, he told us that the same thing has happened to him – when the passengers take a glance
at the meter is when the cabbie exchanges a large bill for a small one right underneath his leg. And then drama ensues.

Just when I thought I have been privy to many of the taxi scams around the globe, another one presents itself. On my very last
night of 383 days of travel…
Back to Argentina.
Me and my lamb.
Me, Cecil and his new bottle of wine.