Despite or because of the fog, Kerry Keel was packed. Miklos and Janos insisted on bellying up to the bar upstairs which caused some consternation on the part of the staff seeing that the stools were already occupied. They boasted of past outings in Dublin earning irritated looks from the bartender as the waitress had to squeeze past us to get her drinks filled. I suppose they´re from Budapest but I don´t bother asking - although I am curious as to exactly why they´re here in Mardel. Janos, the slightly shorter and slightly more sober one seems to read my mind.
You wonder why the fuck we here no!?? he brays.
I nod uncomfortably and he orders another round of Guiness for all of us. I still haven´t finished my first pint and I make no effort at draining it despite the imminent arrival of a fresh one. No point in getting drunk. Miklos has appropriated a bar stool that a balding red head had left vacant - I guess he had to pee. He returns and I fear a confrontation but he just glares at Miklos and pays up his tab. He´s alone and seems to be a regular here from his easy banter with the bartender. I think I hear ¨ pelotudos ¨ in reference no doubt to us and I catch a sharp quick glance from the bartender as he hands the red head his change. Janos drains a good portion of his fresh pint and grins lewdly at me,
Rabbit meat. We are producer/exporters.
You don´t mean you export here??
Nooo!! Che!! We export to Germany and Italy and everywhere. We are to look at possibility ...
The bartender glances again quickly at us and grins sardonically at Janos´ use of ¨ che ¨. It´s a sneer really and I feel even more uncomfortable. Elegant wood paneling and the Plane trees on Alvarado visible through the enormous windows. But the atmosphere is clubby and snotty and we are definitely nearing persona non grata status. I answer Janos with what I hope is quiet calm enthusiasm,
Oh ... you´re buying up a competitor?
Janos winks at me. A little too lustily I think.
Argentina is competitor, yes. And meat processing plant in Colonel Vidal.
Colonel Vidal? There´s a rabbit meat processing plant in Colonel Vidal??
Of course ...
He drains the rest of his pint and signals for another. Milos stares broodingly at the bar counter. I´m nervous and on edge. So are the staff.
Is good product the Argentina ... ( his English is deteriorating quickly )
I see.
I sip at my fresh pint. When did the bartender take away my first one? Never mind. Colonel Vidal is maybe an hour or so north of here along highway 2. I imagine that once they transacted their business there, they decided to see Mar del Plata rather than make the longer drive back to Buenos Aires. A couple vacate their stools with angry looks towards us. It looks like Miklos and Janos ( and me ) are scaring away customers. A chestnut haired waitress suggests we take an empty table over in the corner. Janos leers at her but agrees and I tread carefully behind the two of them as we shuffle over with our pints. Miklos orders another round as soon as we´re seated. What am I doing? These two are a tough lot however drunk they may be. Hell, they´re crazy. What the hell can I do to seperate them from their Dollars or Euros? Or Pesos if need be? Janos puts a large hand on my thigh.
You know how rabbits fuck?? ( oh jesus ... )
Uh ... no.
Like rabbits!!!
He brays at his own joke. People glare as I shift his hand off my leg. I´m at a crossroads here. Do I get angry and disassociate myself from them and return home without having scored even a dollar? Or do I play along ... ? Milos burps loudly and now the bartender approaches along with the doorman. Part of me is absolutely mortified but part of me is relieved. I take the initiave and stand up and meet them a few paces from our table.
Caballeros disculpa. Ya nos vamos ok?
The doorman looks like he plays rugby and would love a scrap. Did I see two of them when we came in? Is another doorman downstairs or outside? The bartender puts a hand on my arm and squeezes hard. I feel a flash of anger.
Mejor que pagan y van.
Mira, ya nos vamos ok??
He keeps his hand tightly gripped on my arm. I´m really angry now and quite alert. Good. Let´s do this. I push at him and say loudly,
No me tocas boludo!!
The doorman slides past him and grabs my elbow and starts to drag me towards the door but as I had hoped, Janos is right behind and lunges at him. I feel blows swirling around me as Milos pushes past me to get at the bartender. I remember a fight breaking out right next to me at Paupers on Bloor Street in the 80´s. It was over before I had really realized what had happened. This took a little longer but time mutates in a brawl. I can´t say if a chair hit my head or if I had been fighting with the bartender before Miklos tangled with him for example. But by the time I reached the sidewalk my head was bleeding and I had a wallet in my hand. Thank goodness it was mostly older clients or they would have beat us to a pulp. Or maybe they were beating Janos and Miklos mercilessly. The sidewalk is quiet and empty and I quickly take out the bills from the wallet and then throw it in the gutter. I raise my hood and walk quickly down Alvarado and turn onto Olavarria heading towards Colon. Before reaching Colon however I take Alsina and then turn onto Almirante Brown, Irish founder of the Argentine navy. Cute. I hear sirens now. Not good. Not sure whose wallet I grabbed or how much cash I managed to steal. Entre Rios, Luro, 25 de Mayo and now Mitre. I reach Peralta Ramos and Plaza España - back to where I was earlier this evening. My head feels swollen above my left ear. I feel carefully under my hood. It´s a smallish bump and the blood seems to have dried. I keep walking and pass the Unzue Orphanage - a reduced work crew continues to slowly work their way along the large structure; sometimes during the day I even spot one ot two of them. Through the front door and up the steps and home. Isa calls out from the bedroom,
Amor, que paso??
I don´t answer and head past our bedroom and into the bathroom. One eye is swelling and there´s a patch of dark red on my scalp. My nose feels very sore but no teeth are missing. I turn on the tap and take off my coat, sweater and tshirt and throw them out into the hall. I run the water till it´s warm and try to wash up as best as I can. I straighten up and take a towel and dry my face off. I know that Isa is standing there watching me but I focus on the mirror and finish drying myself off. Finally I turn and look at her,
Se complico amor.
Lograste algo ... ?
We take my clothes into the bedroom and then check the bills I stuffed quickly into my wallet. 835 Euros. I look at Isa and say,
If I get away with it it was worth it.
You wonder why the fuck we here no!?? he brays.
I nod uncomfortably and he orders another round of Guiness for all of us. I still haven´t finished my first pint and I make no effort at draining it despite the imminent arrival of a fresh one. No point in getting drunk. Miklos has appropriated a bar stool that a balding red head had left vacant - I guess he had to pee. He returns and I fear a confrontation but he just glares at Miklos and pays up his tab. He´s alone and seems to be a regular here from his easy banter with the bartender. I think I hear ¨ pelotudos ¨ in reference no doubt to us and I catch a sharp quick glance from the bartender as he hands the red head his change. Janos drains a good portion of his fresh pint and grins lewdly at me,
Rabbit meat. We are producer/exporters.
You don´t mean you export here??
Nooo!! Che!! We export to Germany and Italy and everywhere. We are to look at possibility ...
The bartender glances again quickly at us and grins sardonically at Janos´ use of ¨ che ¨. It´s a sneer really and I feel even more uncomfortable. Elegant wood paneling and the Plane trees on Alvarado visible through the enormous windows. But the atmosphere is clubby and snotty and we are definitely nearing persona non grata status. I answer Janos with what I hope is quiet calm enthusiasm,
Oh ... you´re buying up a competitor?
Janos winks at me. A little too lustily I think.
Argentina is competitor, yes. And meat processing plant in Colonel Vidal.
Colonel Vidal? There´s a rabbit meat processing plant in Colonel Vidal??
Of course ...
He drains the rest of his pint and signals for another. Milos stares broodingly at the bar counter. I´m nervous and on edge. So are the staff.
Is good product the Argentina ... ( his English is deteriorating quickly )
I see.
I sip at my fresh pint. When did the bartender take away my first one? Never mind. Colonel Vidal is maybe an hour or so north of here along highway 2. I imagine that once they transacted their business there, they decided to see Mar del Plata rather than make the longer drive back to Buenos Aires. A couple vacate their stools with angry looks towards us. It looks like Miklos and Janos ( and me ) are scaring away customers. A chestnut haired waitress suggests we take an empty table over in the corner. Janos leers at her but agrees and I tread carefully behind the two of them as we shuffle over with our pints. Miklos orders another round as soon as we´re seated. What am I doing? These two are a tough lot however drunk they may be. Hell, they´re crazy. What the hell can I do to seperate them from their Dollars or Euros? Or Pesos if need be? Janos puts a large hand on my thigh.
You know how rabbits fuck?? ( oh jesus ... )
Uh ... no.
Like rabbits!!!
He brays at his own joke. People glare as I shift his hand off my leg. I´m at a crossroads here. Do I get angry and disassociate myself from them and return home without having scored even a dollar? Or do I play along ... ? Milos burps loudly and now the bartender approaches along with the doorman. Part of me is absolutely mortified but part of me is relieved. I take the initiave and stand up and meet them a few paces from our table.
Caballeros disculpa. Ya nos vamos ok?
The doorman looks like he plays rugby and would love a scrap. Did I see two of them when we came in? Is another doorman downstairs or outside? The bartender puts a hand on my arm and squeezes hard. I feel a flash of anger.
Mejor que pagan y van.
Mira, ya nos vamos ok??
He keeps his hand tightly gripped on my arm. I´m really angry now and quite alert. Good. Let´s do this. I push at him and say loudly,
No me tocas boludo!!
The doorman slides past him and grabs my elbow and starts to drag me towards the door but as I had hoped, Janos is right behind and lunges at him. I feel blows swirling around me as Milos pushes past me to get at the bartender. I remember a fight breaking out right next to me at Paupers on Bloor Street in the 80´s. It was over before I had really realized what had happened. This took a little longer but time mutates in a brawl. I can´t say if a chair hit my head or if I had been fighting with the bartender before Miklos tangled with him for example. But by the time I reached the sidewalk my head was bleeding and I had a wallet in my hand. Thank goodness it was mostly older clients or they would have beat us to a pulp. Or maybe they were beating Janos and Miklos mercilessly. The sidewalk is quiet and empty and I quickly take out the bills from the wallet and then throw it in the gutter. I raise my hood and walk quickly down Alvarado and turn onto Olavarria heading towards Colon. Before reaching Colon however I take Alsina and then turn onto Almirante Brown, Irish founder of the Argentine navy. Cute. I hear sirens now. Not good. Not sure whose wallet I grabbed or how much cash I managed to steal. Entre Rios, Luro, 25 de Mayo and now Mitre. I reach Peralta Ramos and Plaza España - back to where I was earlier this evening. My head feels swollen above my left ear. I feel carefully under my hood. It´s a smallish bump and the blood seems to have dried. I keep walking and pass the Unzue Orphanage - a reduced work crew continues to slowly work their way along the large structure; sometimes during the day I even spot one ot two of them. Through the front door and up the steps and home. Isa calls out from the bedroom,
Amor, que paso??
I don´t answer and head past our bedroom and into the bathroom. One eye is swelling and there´s a patch of dark red on my scalp. My nose feels very sore but no teeth are missing. I turn on the tap and take off my coat, sweater and tshirt and throw them out into the hall. I run the water till it´s warm and try to wash up as best as I can. I straighten up and take a towel and dry my face off. I know that Isa is standing there watching me but I focus on the mirror and finish drying myself off. Finally I turn and look at her,
Se complico amor.
Lograste algo ... ?
We take my clothes into the bedroom and then check the bills I stuffed quickly into my wallet. 835 Euros. I look at Isa and say,
If I get away with it it was worth it.
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