In the neighborhood

I just went out to pick up my laundry and walked past the neighborhood gym (which looks more like a high-end spa from the front), and two women with giant fake tits and little ankle-biter dog stood at the door. Next to them, three guys smoked cigarettes in their workout suits. God I love this place. What the?!

Then I passed Persicco ice cream where you can smoke cigarettes as you slurp up a giant scoop of dulce de leche with all the neighborhood couples and families. Great fun to blow smoke rings at the little kids - they just love it!

Passed the news stand where I buy La Nacion or the Buenos Aires Herald every day. Passed the flower guy who's set up right next to the soap and incense guy. Passed the grocery store (which has that checkout system I still can't figure out). Passed La Imprenta, where Aimee and I go for salads or pasta or coffee when we don't feel like dealing at home. Passed the wine-and-cheese shop, and the chocolate shop and the kiosk where I buy my smokes. Passed the little art supply store where we buy stuff like tape or pens or folders. Passed the key shop where we got an extra set of keys made.

Man, if we didn't have to run around the city and check out all botique shops, the funky hole-in-the-wall restaurants, the amazing museums, the theaters, the punk rock shopping malls covered in grafitti, the designer shops that would make your mother consider fetish-wear, the huge parks, the smoky bars, the lingerie shops, the neighborhoods with decrepid 19th century arcitecture, the hip restaurants and the packed shopping streets, we'd never even have to leave our neighborhood.