Ferry ride to Uruguay

It had been one week of complete madness in Buenos Aires. Having diner at midnight, drinking a few beers and cocktails at 1:00am, going out at 2:00am, and then returning to a floor somewhere to sleep once the sun was wide-awake and the buses were rumbling on their normal routine. Back in Austin I used to wake up at 4:30am-- not go out. The schedule of midnight beef and anis flavored Argentine liquor was beginning to get to me.

Although I really do love the city, I felt like a needed a break. Before I even came to South America I had visions of beaches, pina coladas, clear skies, and sunshine. All I wanted to do was sit on the beach, read a book, make a sandcastle cooler for my tall-boys of beer, and nap to the sound of crashing waves. I figured the easiest, quickest, cheapest place for me to do this was Uruguay. I packed up my backpack and headed to the ferry station with only one thing on my mind-- relaxation.

A friend from the States decided to meet up with me in Uruguay because he desperately needs a Visa to Brazil since his flight back to the States leaves December 1st from Rio de Janerio. After failing to get his Visa twice in Chile, and getting turned away three times in Argentina, he decided that his only remaining lifeline was to try his luck in Uruguay.

The terminal to buy tickets looked a little plush just for a three hour ferry ride across the bay. One would think that with all the time they spent deciding where to hang the flat screen televisions and wall art they may would have put up a sign that indicated where to buy a ticket. As I've said before, I have a problem with asking people simple things like directions. The time. Or what line is the one to buy bus tickets?

I used my superior deductive reasoning skills and got in the longest line I saw and waited...

"Are you sure we are supposed to buy tickets here?" My friend, Eric, asked.

"No, but I assume that since this the longest line it must be the one we need."

Eric nodded his head in agreement as he smacked his croissant. The line kept moving in its lethargic manner until half an hour passed
and we were at the beginning.

Necessito dos boletlos por Montevideo, por favor? I asked.

No. Tienes que comprar allí.. He pointed three windows to the left.

Fuck. I should've asked.

It took two hours, and 90 US dollars to get a 3 hour ferry ride to Montevideo. I was livid. It was the most stupid, overpriced process
I have encountered in South America. First, you had to go to a window and get your passport verified. Then you go to another window to double check that your passport was verified. After that you go to another line where nothing happens and then you buy your ticket after you are too annoyed to care that you probably could have flown there cheaper. I could hear the lady grunting like some sort of choking mule as I begrudgingly took my time sorting out my Argentinean pesos.

Things got a lot better once we got on the ferry. Eric and I preoccupied ourselves with the Would you rather game.

If Obama wasn´t president would you rather vote for Bush again or Sarah Palin?

Neither. I´m an anarchist.

Dude, that´s not how to play the game. You gotta choose.

Instead, Eric continues the game and asks me,
Would you rather choke to death or choke someone else to death?

What the fuck?! Neither. This is supposed to be an uplifting game.

After an hour going back and forth and failing at the would you rather game
we both agreed that we would rather not play anymore. We reclined back in our
90$ ferry ride seats and while Eric watched Madonna: Live in Buenos Aires on DVD
I began making a very detailed list of priorities I want to complete once I get back to Austin:

1. Start an underground poker ring
-once a month
- min. $10 buy-ins
- whiskey, cigars, jazz, stouts, suits

2. Become a rockclimber

3. See every Shakespearean play Austin has to offer

4. Find a place to live, and then paint the room no matter what color it may already be.

5. The Exotic 6-Pack Club
- May this endeavor demonstrate my dedication to the advancement of beer by organizing a group of young, promising individuals to surprise each other once a week with some obscure beer that we beer buffs can enjoy one chug at a time.

6. Get a job.

That was as far as I got before the ferry reached the dock.