/dev/zero

Martin took me to an Argentinian restaurant last night. We had something called a “fuente” (which to me should be a cigar. That reminds me, I should smoke this nice cigar he gave me when I got here. He says it’s Cuban…) A fuente is a metal box with it’s own grill, on top of which is piled a BUNCH of meat. Several rib eyes. Lot’s of skirt stake. A kidney (on which I passed. Martin likes kidney, so he was welcome to it.) Sweet breads (pancreas. Never had them before. Delicious.) Chitlins (never had them either. I’ll pass in the future.) and a couple different kinds of sausage.
Along with all that we had a salad and a pitcher of sangria. I love sangria. Good thing I don’t drink it very often. It’s one of the few things I can stand to drink in sufficient quantities to get drunk.
On Thursday nights they have live tango music and clear the middle of the room for a dance floor. There was one attractive lady who was up for every dance. She only started sitting them out toward the end of the evening.
There was another couple who danced a couple of times that blew everyone else away. Martin described the tango as a dance where the upper body should be serene, near motionless, while below the waist it’s Times Square on New Years Eve. This couple was like that. I was fascinated at how they could make these complicated steps, stepping inside each other’s pace, crossing one leg behind the other, crossing legs with their partner, etc, and not end up sprawled out on the floor. It was beauty in motion.
This is what life is all about.