*Images are for illustration purposes only.
It was October, three years ago.
I was living with my sister, working in an Advertising Agency and going to school (I still am), and days were easy breezy. And fun. Nights were too.
The city I live in has a nickname: La Docta, “the educated”, because in this city the first University of the country was founded and the second in Latin America. Coincidentally, this is the same University I attend to study communications. (Also, Public Universities here are free! no tuition, I love that about my country).
There are many traditions in this University. One of them is “Cultural Thursdays“: different parties organized in public spaces and patios where they serve beer and wine in hopes to share a cultural/social moment with future colleagues. As you can imagine by now, these school night parties are potentially wild.
And for a night, for this girl writing here, they were.
We started the evening having pizza at my classmate’s apartment, one floor down from mine. Contrary to housing policies in the US, here in Argentina students are free to live wherever. And students from all over the country have chosen Nueva Cordoba as their neighborhood.
After a few bottles of beer, we headed down to the first party of the night: one called “Little Wood”. This one was only 2 blocks away from our building, so the 8 of us started walking towards it when a police car stopped us. My neighbour was holding an almost empty bottle of Corona beer, something illegal to do while walking on public space.
I do not know this guy.
This police car called for reinforcements and out of the sudden, the 8 of us were asked for IDs by 10 policemen, checked for illegal substances and verbally abused by the awful force we have in this city. We had nothing weird or illegal on us, only those few drops of lukewarm beer that my neighbor poured down and profusely apologized for.
After an hour of this, we were “released” with a couple of tickets, feeling completely embarrassed. This situation that took place meters away to the party (so everyone could see us on their way there). So we made it to party #1.
The first destination wasn’t fun and our friends weren’t there, so we headed down to Party #2. Everyone we knew were in that party, they had seen us almost-being-arrested, so they showed sympathy by giving us free drinks and bottles of beer. Because we were telling people what had happened before, we were showing around the tickets and eventually lost them. Oops.
Party #3, Part I.
Eventually, we knew it was time to change scenery so we walked to the third and last party of the night. This one took place in a place called “Dry Square”. I went inside to use the restroom, feeling a little tipsy, and when I walked in I saw a dog. (There are a lot of stray dogs in school that are familiar to all students and even take classes with us – hilarious.)
My reaction, as always, was saying hello to the pup doing my best canine voice (of course I did). Unfortunately, the dog didn’t take it so well, so he immediately jumped on me trying to bite me. I reacted fast enough to step back in time, but at that same exact second, one of the stall doors opened up and my sister was there, dropped jaw. She started yelling “I heard you and knew it was you! That dog was going to bite you!”
It looked like this from my view. Sort of.
I was more scared of my sister than of the poor dog, so I apologized and walked out without noticing my bitten hand. I could still hear her screaming “You better behave, you heard me? I don’t want you to get hurt tonight!”
Party #3, Part II.
I walked out of the bathroom laughing like a mad person for all the events, and I was in that state when I ran into my ex’s brother.
Remember C, the guy I told you about? Well, this was right after I came back from the US and I hadn’t heard from him since we had broken up, so it was kind of shocking. I tried to play cool (with my almost bitten hand) and said “hi, how are you, yeah I’ve been doing awesome and my life is great, thankyouverymuch“. Then my phone rang.
I looked down and it was my friend Dani trying to find me, and I knew it, but I made the hand gesture for “waitasecondplease” and picked up, saying, loudly, “Hi, honey! Where are you love?” (See what I tried to do here? Of course you do.)
But of course, it came out wrong. Because while I was too distracted trying to have a perfect getaway-fake-boyfriend-call, I stepped into a ditch.
And I disappeared from the world for a few seconds.
I was IN the ditch, covered in dirt, with a bunch of people helping me to get up when it hit me: it was the most embarrassing night of my life. And then it started raining. POURING rain. Cats and biting dogs. And, as you might remember, I was covered in dirt.
So I got up, muddy and bloody, with a gigantic cut in my elbow and walked away: STILL ON THE PHONE WITH DANI. Apparently, during my time in the ditch I kept screaming “Mayday, we have a problem!”
I found her a few seconds later and she was laughing histerically from the whole scene, that she had witnessed from a few steps away.
We ran home under the rain, and when I got to my apartment I knocked on the door and my sister opened. What she saw was a girl still laughing like crazy, dripping mud and with an arm covered in blood. And it was only 2 hours after I left the apartment.
Oh, she was mad. Mad is an understatment. She was FURIOUS.
But of course she was more worried, and after we fixed my arm I went to sleep with a new scar, a few tickets to pay and an amazing anecdote to last forever.