I've waited my "seven days or a week" and my cold is mercifully slipping away so I can finally walk down the street without my mouth hanging wide open gulping at the air like a fish. This is very good news, because my renewed condition will hopefully leave me with more coordination to negotiate the city's varied state of sidewalk panels. I rolled my ankle on a loose cobblestone today for the umpteenth time on the way to work. I felt a little sorry for myself until I saw a blind man tapping his way forward across the street—if my ankles are spaghetti, his must be silly putty.
I still haven't achieved my grand goal of crossing Avenida 9 de Julio and its two tributaries in one single go (i.e. sprint). The Argentines like to say that it's the widest street in the world, but there are whispers of a wider one in Brazil. But as Sol says, Argentines are all just a bunch of chamuyeros (know-it-all bullshitters) anyway.
But without further ado, I give you...
INSTALLATION #1 OF ODD STOREFRONTS ON MY WAY HOME
Sandwiched between the Hertz Rent-a-Car and a hotel:
And in case cars aren't your thing, there's a horse and carriage for rent:
Continuing right along, we come to a baby store that celebrates the well-known fact that infants are indeed aliens:
. . . But I lie. That last one wasn't really on way home, but on the way to El Ateneo, one of the most beautiful bookstores in the world. If I could grab a blanket and sleep in one of the theater boxes for the rest of my life I would, but the security guard kindly asked me to leave the last time I tried.