A Guy So Memorable I Forgot His Name Twice
Welcome to another post in my Dating in Buenos Aires series. To be fair, this date actually happened in Santa Fe, Argentina but hey, it sucked all the same.
Today’s Subject: Iván
I only recently remembered this date even happened. Ayngelina called me out on the fact that I will go on a date just for ice cream (remember Andres?). When I laughed about this with my friend Jorge, he said “Oh yeah, that guy in Santa Fe?” Nope, that wasn’t Andres. Turns out there have been various men who have lured me out with the promise of ice cream. To be fair, Argentina has the best ice cream in the world! It took me a week of thinking to come up with the name Alejandro, which lead to me to an old Facebook message that finally got me to the name Iván. Sadly, this was the second time I had forgotten this poor guy’s name.
Blind Date…or so I thought
The details of how this date came to be are a little complicated. I had just arrived in Santa Fe, Argentina from Colón. In Colón, I met a guy named Alejandro (Who did not buy me ice cream and thus I did not date). When I told him I was headed to Santa Fe next, he told me he had a friend there and he would pass on my information in case I wanted someone to hang out with there.
In Santa Fe, I met another Alejandro in the hostel. He and I hung out a few times, just as fellow travelers. One of those times he brought along his local friend, Iván. We got some drinks and that was pretty much it. Alejandro left a couple days before me, with my contact information in case he ever came to Buenos Aires.
The day before I left, I got a text from a number I didn’t recognize. It said, “Hey, this is Alejandro’s friend, Iván. You are leaving soon, right? Can I buy you an ice cream before you go?” This was the first time I forgot Iván’s name
I assumed this person was the friend of the Alejandro from Colón. I had totally forgotten I had even met this Iván guy. Of course, I was way too excited about the prospect of ice cream to care who I had to spend time with to get it. When Iván showed up at the hostel, I immediately recognized him and was thoroughly confused to see him there. I like to believe I recovered quickly and hid the surprised look on my face well.
Walking, shopping, movie…seriously where is the ice cream?
Iván decided that we should walk to the other side of the city to go to the shopping mall. I was not thrilled about this, but the mall is by the river which has a nice view so I went along with it. We chatted along the way, absolutely nothing of substance. He wasn’t quite as bad as the boring as cardboard guy, but he wasn’t riveting either.
When we finally got to the mall, I expected we would hit up the ice cream shop, walk around a bit more and then bail. No such luck. He kept suggesting other activities, like seeing a movie or going to a nearby casino, then asking me what I wanted to do. I think we all know what my answer was. However, Iván was able to talk me into a coffee, successfully adding a good 30 minutes to the date. Afterwards, thankfully, he finally bought me the ice cream he promised and I thought I was free.
The never ending tour
Iván was quite fascinated by the fact that I write about traveling. So fascinated that he felt the need to give me a full tour of his city with endless amounts of useless information. As we walked farther and farther away from my hostel and my ice cream cone got smaller and smaller, I began to despair. My feet were tired, the history lesson was boring, and this guy’s hand kept getting dangerously close to mine. I know all of you must think I am a total ice cream whore by now, but the truth is, I am a whore only to ice cream. To these saps that are buying it, I am just an uninterested tease.
The master of avoiding the good night kiss
As I have explained before, the tradition of kissing everyone on the cheek in Argentina makes it difficult to avoid unwanted goodnight kisses. Luckily, I have mastered the art of sneak attack cheek-kiss. I go in before they are ready, slipping my ”chau” in and turning on my heel before they can plot their kiss strategy.
Late night text and a heartbreaking response
A few weeks after my trip to Santa Fe, I was out dancing in Buenos Aires. It was around 2:30 AM when I got a text that said “Missing a beautiful woman like you. The river made me think of you. How are you? I hope you are well.” I was tipsy and had no idea who this text was from. I wrote back “Who is this?”
Poor Iván. He wrote back a sad little message, explaining who he was, reminding me that we had a lovely date in Santa Fe. I tried to write a semi-nice message back, but my heart wasn’t in it and the damage had been done. That was the last I heard from what’s-his-name.
