Shopping is Never an Easy Venture

Today I went to pick up some wine and champagne for a Bachelorette Party that we're hosting at my apartment tonight. Katie is getting married on Saturday and we plan to celebrate her last days as a singleton with plenty of bubbly and guacamole (although I should probably stay away from the champagne as I overdid it at the weekend).

Shopping for certain things in Argentina is always an adventure. Underwear, for example. Sure it's a strange thing to discuss, but it's such a bizarre experience anytime I walk into a shop here. Everything is hidden away in boxes - it's not like Victoria's Secret (clearly not the most dignified of shops in the US, but something everyone can use as a reference point) where underpinnings are laid out on tables and hanging from little racks. In Buenos Aires, everything is folded into a small cardboard box so you have to ask for assistance any and every time you want to see something. They have catalogs that you can peruse to pick out things you like - mind you, the models are busty, curvaceous and almost always in ridiculous situations (like dressed as flight attendants, well, inside a plane, but dressed in a leather bra and garter set). When the sales assistant is an older man, things get interesting. Just try to imagine yourself in this situation and you'll see why I bring all of my lingerie and unmentionables in from the United States.

Across the street from underpantsland is the neighborhood grocery store. I go here several times a week and prefer to give them my patronage over the big chain (Disco) that always puts me in a bad mood. It's like their cashiers make an effort to be insanely slow when in the check out process. Eline (the small market) has friendly staff, a good fruit/veg selection and a semi-creepy butcher who knows how to wield a sharp knife. I went in today to get the wine and champagne but was bummed when I realized that their selection was pretty limited. I almost abandoned my semi-full cart in order to go to Disco with a heavy heart, but I bought 90% of what I needed there and then started Part 2 of my shopping saga. I got a few bottles of white wine at Disco and donezo.

It's impossible to estimate how long you'll be gone running errands - a simple trip to the market could take more than an hour if you go at a peak time or your cashier is totally useless. Picking up a few simple pairs of underwear leads to an opening of Pandora's box (semi-literally) as you rifle through tiny cardboard boxes of individually packed thongs/boyshorts/briefs/etc.

Oh, Argentina ...