Chapter 6December 23: Ramon
Dinner, again. Walking through the city, again; this time I paid attention. Going through the door at the dance hall, submerging into that sea of music and bodies.
Tonight’s milonga was no less fascinating than the other night, but a lot more of my brain was working this time. The older guy and his wife were there again; I managed to retain their names and ask a few civil questions. They were in town for the holiday, they said, visiting from their home in Mendoza. They owned a winery.
“You should visit,” she said. “When you come again to Argentina. Bring your friend.” The look accompanying that suggestion implied awareness that we were sleeping together. Well, our body language was probably pretty explicit. And clearly she didn’t mind. She suggested I should
