the museum

this week i went to the museum. no no, it's not sophisticated and intellectual like it sounds, it's quite the opposite. museum is a club.

well, i didn't exactly know what i was getting myself into when i accepted the invitation but i did know that it was a bar / happy hour kind of place.

myself and two friends arrived a little after 9pm. the place was huge. the entire downstairs is open with high ceilings and there are two additional levels but only around the parameter, leaving the center open.

we arrived to a sea of handsome, tall, well dressed argentine men. the men really are handsome here. after some admiration, we had something to eat. but, by the time we finished our food and drinks most of the handsome happy hour crowd left. the downstairs was filled with seating when we arrived, but it was being removed, the lights were being dimmed and the grabby dance floor experience was starting to form. i wasn't mentally prepared. i was still in my work clothes, i wanted to relax rather than dish out discipline to the grabby hand owners. i really feel nasty wagging my finger at all of them, but it seems like they understand that more than just simply peeling their hands off my arms or wrists (this really happens).

not only was i not mentally prepared for this experience but i also wasn't prepared for all the smoking; the plumes of clouds that the dancing smokers were creating; i wish i wouldn't have worn my nice jacket.

i like to go to clubs now and then, but just on the weekends....especially when i'm able to drink myself to a comfort level where i don't mind being grabbed at...

in a sort of way i'm getting use to the grabby hands. it doesn't seem to be as annoying or shocking as when i first arrived. it seems like it's just a part of the life here...one of many things that i need to accept since I'll be here long-term.