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We finally pass through the front door; the brown-uniformed security guard lets out an elderly couple and then lets us squeeze through the partially opened glass and metal frame door. Outside on the sidewalk a blue-uniformed policeman surveys the lineup with disinterest, occasionally nudging a customer back into line with a quiet gesture. It´s usually not this bad - I wonder if it´s payday today. The traffic on Luro is busy and I´m relieved to be inside but impatient to get to the ATM´s. Isadora looks sharp and pretty ánd tensely surveys the lineup inside the bank´s foyer. We usually whisper silly jokes in each other´s ears to ease our claustrophobia while waiting in line but today we´re both tired and remain quiet. I look again and notice frustrated head shakes on the part of customers at the machines and hear some angry mutters wafting back towards us. The line moves quickly as people retreat huffily from the machines and head back outside or upstairs to where the tellers are. Some guy with the body of a prop ( does he play for Pueyrredon I wonder to myself ) takes an age at the machine the furthest to the right. Isadora stares angrily at his back. Theoretically it should be a straightforward matter to withdraw funds from my Canadian bank account but I always make sure Isadora nods before I press any key on the screen. The line keeps moving. People shuffle out. Are the machines short of cash? I stare quickly at a well dressed man to see if he slips bills into his wallet. He does. Good. We´re next.

A pause. Isadora tries to mold her anger into a presentable and constructive mask. The ATM´s do indeed have cash but no dollars and the rate we´re getting on the loonie is abismal. 300 $CAN comes to ... let´s see ... 785 Pesos. Rather than interrupt Isa´s growls I stare directly at her and wait for a moment. She relents with a stubborn little
nod and I press the screen. I take the cash and slip the reciept into my pocket. Then I hand Isa 285 Pesos and slip the rest quickly into my wallet. The security guard waits a beat before opening up for us and then we´re outside again. A fresh breeze wafts down Luro and I open up my windbreaker and give an affectionate glance back at the Plane trees that line this part of the sidewalk. Isa turns towards the Cathedral and I lightly grab her elbow and steer her in the right direction. Her sense of direction is intuitive let´s say.

Look ...
For god´s sake honey, close your mouth!!

So I chew some more with mouth closed of course and then gulp down some mashed potatoes. We´ve ordered one steak platter and two tostados between us and the more I eat the more my appetite returns. I continue and try to explain that with the peso up against the dollar and the loonie down against the dollar, the rate we got isn´t too bad. What kills us is the fact they don´t give us a direct loonie to peso rate. Isadora nods distractedly and sips her coke. I gnaw at the bone ( she gave me the bonier half ) and gulp down some coke. She´s right though. What good does a higher peso do us when it means any money I get from the trickling sales of my CD will be worth less? And she sells her cosmetics in pesos even if we source them in dollars through my Paypal account. Our cyber kiosk ( as I like to call it ) would be cute if we could just earn a little more. I finish off the last of the mashed potatoes. Rain starts to fall, lightly spitting on the two jugglers and then growng in windswept waves to a heavy drizzle. So we finish our food and stare at the rain knowing that we´ll have an argument later over which bills to pay and what to do with the little that´s left over. A colectivo turning off Independencia nearly sideswipes a taxi and the jugglers give up and move under the awnings. It feels cooler and I gaze at the rain and wonder what would happen if it turned to wet snow.