Beware of the Wobblies!

Rubí, a pocket-sized friend from Valencia, once called Buenos Aires as the “City of Dancing Flagstones.” Her description is not only poetic, it is true: instead of poured concrete, the sidewalks of the metropolis are lined with flagstones that over the course of time chip, crack, and wobble.

As the fiercely devoted readers of these chronicles will recall, Buenos Aires loves to imitate Paris. Beyond the big lines of sight of Haussmann-inspired boulevards, these cities share another common feature: the sidewalks are dotted with dogshit.

Taking these two factors into account, you are advised to step deftly when en flânant dans les rues of Buenos Aires.

After a heavy rainfall, you need to be especially cautious. (And, as I write, it has been raining two days straight.) Within a few days of my arrival here, I stepped on a teetering flagstone, which sent a jet of blackish water upwards, soaking my shoe and covering my pant leg.

Then it happened again. And again. There is a 72% chance that it will happen tomorrow.

The other night I was having dinner with some folks at the Club Eros. The Club Eros is not what its name suggests, you pervert, but an old athletic and social club in the middle of über-hip Palermo.

A new acquaintance and I transitioned nicely from small talk about weather to the dancing tiles of the city.

And like a good porteño, Fede started to sing a tango:

Igual que baldosa floja,
Salpico si alguien me pone el pie
(Just like a loose flagstone
I splash if you step on me)