Last night I went out to Lapa with a good friend of mine for some drinking and dancing. I'm not a big club person but the promise of Beatles and 80s music was pretty endearing so we took a ONE HUNDRED REAIS cab ride aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall the way from Recreio to Lapa.
The farness factor cannot be emphasized any more than this.
Anyway, I digress. So we had a great ol' time dancing and drinking Malibu Rum(!!). The club was just as great as any club can be - so hot and sweaty that I have a hard time pulling my jeans back up after fazendo xixi and that my shirt feels like a wet dish rag. Fun! Why on Earth don't I go to clubs more often??
So great time, came home very late/early and pretty tipsy which ULTIMATELY equals eating McDonalds the next day.
I have no idea why I am cursed with this physical NEED to eat McDonalds the day after a night of drinking. It's like my stomach will not accept anything other than this crap that I truly don't even really enjoy eating. It's this argument with myself that I lose EVERY TIME! I know it won't taste as good as I think it tastes in my head. I know my stomach will feel like it's on fire later. I know that damn bread is going to be hard and crusty. And I KNOW they will not understand me when I ask for um quarterao (Jeeeeeez, they never understand me when I say quarterao! What else could I be asking for?? Put it together! I know I have an accent but does it sound like I am saying Bic Mac?)
But I start to convince myself! Mmm think about how good that burger tastes! This time the bread will be fresh! This time the fries will be hot! This time they'll know exactly what you're asking for and maybe even might ask "Damn, are you Brazilian?!?" Yeah, this time it will be different.
But obviously it's not. It's never different! That's the thing about McDonalds! That's their actual 'thing'. They are always the same.
So, like clockwork, I convinced myself that today would be different on my Hangover McDonalds Day and I went. Well my bread was hard, my coke was flat, and I only had one pickle on my quarterao. But joy of joys, they understood me perfectly. So Lindsey, one. McDonalds, zero. Thank you and I'll be seeing you on my next hangover.
Hahaha! I laughed at a couple of things in your story that I can relate to.
ReplyDelete1. Went to a club in Sao Paulo and it was soooooo packed, I felt like a sardine in a can. You honestly could only move about 1 foot every 5 minutes through the crowd. And it was sooooo hot and humid in there. Not an A/C vent in sight. Not even a crappy oscilating fan mounted to the wall. I thought I was going to suffocate. I had 2 drinks splash on me. My friend INSISTED we go to the upstairs level where it would be cooler (I think he forgot that heat RISES) and no so packed. WRONG! 10x worse than downstairs. This, he realized AFTER we worked our way to the very back far corner, and then decided to go back down. What a nightmare. The only thing that kept a smile on my face was to see and hear the 20-somethings singing English/American songs...or rather, trying to. I don't believe they even knew the words, they were just mimicking the SOUND of the words. Just like you, I wonder why I ever bother to go to a club anymore these days.
2. Having people understand me in public. This one I just had a discussion with my wife about yesterday. I KNOW I have an accent, or I don't pronounce most words perfectly, but c'mon! You have to know I'm a gringo, but at least I'm trying! If the word I'm trying to say is even remotely close to the correct word, is it that hard for you to put 2 & 2 together to deduce what I'm saying? I was making a joke about a girl's hair and I used the word "Medusa", as in the snake-lady. I said it with the 'S' pronounced instead of a 'Z' for Portuguese. My friends were staring at me blankly as if I said "Chicken nuggets". The difference is so minor, but they couldn't figure out what I was trying to say. Look, I make a very big effort to understand you when you're trying out your English on me. If the word is close, I begin running through my head anything that sounds like what they're saying, and if it relates to the discussion so I know it's the word they want to use. Can't they do the same?
RANT OVER.
Boa semana!
Sounds like a fun night and a tried and true hangover fighting morning.
ReplyDeleteWhy don't you go clubbing more often? I think the cab fare may have something to do with it. Ouch!
Here's hoping your new house puts you in better proximity to your fun nights out!
mmmm McDonald's :)
ReplyDeleteLinds I have the same problem with Quarterao! I just began saying it different ways over and over again and finally the girl will say, "Quaterao???" Yes, we have a winner. We don't eat there very often but when we do there is always a story and I can't help but laugh :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Fiona! And Sara you feel like a fool sometimes repeating yourself over and over but hey... that's the life, isn't it!
ReplyDeleteThanks for checking out the blog Nel!