Expats’ last night in Buenos Aires

Matt Graham: “Have a parrillada.”

David Labi: “I’d go to a seedy parrilla in a labyrinthine area of the city and load up on good red wine and finish it off with a Vasco Viejo.”

“See a folklore show, break into the cemetery and get drunk, hit up an electronic club, find a beautiful Argentine girl and convince her to have sex with me in a cab on the way to the Obelisco (paying the cab driver off, of course), and then take a picture with her in front of the Obelisco…”

“Drinks at 878, dinner at El Primo, more drinks at Congo or Mundo Bizarro, table at Tequila, breakfast at Kentucky.”

“I would have a huge steak, walk through La Boca and San Telmo, and then have another huge steak with chorizo and puré de papas. I’d stop by random shops and street corners and observe my surroundings, letting it sink in more profoundly than possible on a regular day. I’d take in the architecture, the cracks and pot holes in the street, hopefully not finding doggy doo doo anywhere near me, while eagerly waiting for a porteña to walk by so I can admire her rear capacities a few last times. Finally I’d hit up a random conversation with someone, complaining about something but ending that short chat laughing. Then I’d walk back to my place, say goodbye, smoke one last shitty joint, with a glass of Malbec and say ‘peace’!”

“Ride the number 39 bus from beginning to end, nose out the window, as always. Then get an early night. Oh, and check whether there’s a strike planned at Ezeiza.”

“I’d go to the Faena, have a great meal, lots of Malbec and retire to one of their suites to have sex with a hunky gaucho. Or maybe a polo player.”

“Not very exciting, but I’d probably sit on the steps at Milión with a drink and soak in the BA atmosphere one last time.”

“Fervor in Recoleta for grilled seafood and Chardonnay.”

“Kansas for dinner and then smoke pot with all my friends on the Río de La Plata.”

“Dinner with my porteña girlfriend, followed by a walk down the cobbled streets of Palermo and a night arguing about whether I should return to BA or whether it’s best to go our separate ways…”

“I would seriously just want to get together all the people that I care about, have a huge asado and drink tons of wine. Granted, we do this all the time, but I really think no one would care exactly where they were, but who they were with.”

“Bife de lomo at El Trapiche or at Don Julio, washed down with copious quantities of vino tinto.”

“I’d probably go to the cemetery and open up the coffins and see if there really were any bodies in the old caskets! Is that weird?”

“I’d have a giant asado in my backyard starting at 2am and ending at 9am and have some amazing wine delivered.”

“Definitely a big asado with friends. Hopefully somewhere with enough space to fit a little tango in too.”

“It would be a perfect spring evening and I’d walk home from last-minute downtown trámite madness and dulce-de-leche panic buying, along the Costanera, then bathe and change for dinner while sipping a mid-range, perfect Champagne. I’d head out for dinner at a San Telmo parrilla with my closest clutch of mates, then just see where the night took us — possible chicness at Le Bar or stools at the bar in La Cigale, then back to San Telmo for all-night dance craziness at Fugees 99.”

“Steak at La Cabrera, drinks at Sugar, party at Tequila, taxi straight to the airport.”

“I would set up one-hour appointments with every cute boy in my MSN whom I still haven’t met. I can always sleep on the plane the next day!”

“Take one last taxi ride with a chatty taxista.”

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