Entering the Seventh Circle

This morning I suffered through the realization of my absolute worst nightmare – close to three hours of shopping. After more than a week of deflecting the “invitation” of my roommate Patricia to help her go spend the rent money I had paid her, today I finally ran out of excuses, real and fabricated. Thus it was off to the Parque Central, which is not a park at all but the heart of downtown Caracas that contains a mixture of high rises and shops. We began with a couple of stores to find new sheets and a blanket for her bed. She asked a conservative estimate of 23 questions about material, pricing, and such, and eventually settled on a pair using what guidelines I have no idea. Let’s just say that the sheets and blanket both have multiple colors and not one can be found on both.

Next it was off to the electronics store to buy a new CD/cassette/radio so that she could play the collection of music she has accumulated over the years. We went through three models, with demonstrations for each, before selecting the most expensive one. Up until now, though, it had been an amusing but relatively painless experience for me. All of which was about to change.
As we walked to the next shopping center she noticed a woman doing some sort of sewing or needlepoint demonstration on the corner of the sidewalk. So we stopped to watch and ask questions about that for five minutes or so. We then passed a candy store, which reminded her that she wanted some kind of chocolate concoction to make a hot beverage she’s been telling me about for a while. The candy store did not have what she was looking for, but she still came away with some chocolates and tea.

At that point it was time for lunch. I don’t want to complain too much; scratch that, of course that is what this post is about. Let’s just say that I was excited to eat lunch away from the apartment because Patricia’s cooking has been less than stellar lately. This morning I got really excited when she made me a fried egg to go with the usual arepa, snapping a streak since I had arrived of breakfast consisting every day of arepas with tuna, tomato, and onion, or cheese. (I know I shouldn’t complain about someone cooking for me, but trust me it’s ok. I made a bet with her about the Venezuela-US soccer game on Saturday with the stakes being the loser has to cook so that I can sub in for her). Unfortunately the fried egg must have been marinated in the Dead Sea for the past week because it tasted like pure salt.

Anyway, lunch at a restaurant presented an exciting prospect for both of us. Until she decided that we would eat at one of those joints that you see at any mall that has a buffet with every type of cuisine imaginable and that charges you by the kilo of food that you put on your plate. When I said I really liked empanadas and would be happy to go to a counter that sells them like I usually do for lunch when I’m not at the apartment, she said they have too much fat and weren’t good for someone old like her. Of course her plate of fried chicken, fried plantains, and pork (and salad) was approved by the Surgeon General.

After we finished lunch she stepped up her game and really tried to put an end to me. First we went to a flower shop. As best as I can tell she never had any intention of buying any flowers, but heaven knows that shouldn’t stop someone from touching and smelling each petal in the store. Heroically keeping my cool, I felt good that at least we had started to walk back toward the apartment, so we couldn’t be gone too much longer. Next came a quick stop at a store where she eyeballed umbrellas and watches for a little while. Then she pulled out the dagger. And walked into a department store to look at clothes. As we entered the women’s section and she started to ask about blouses and give quick grabs of bras that were on display I decided I had had enough. I told her that I felt bad, but that I really wasn’t much of a shopper and that she was only the most recent person to discover that fact. I offered to carry all of the items she had purchased back to the apartment and meet up with her later, but that I simply am not a strong enough person to handle clothes shopping. She refused my offer and said she’d just be another minute, which to her credit she was. We left shortly thereafter and I have been holed up in my room ever since keeled over and shivering from the trauma I just underwent.

So consider this a therapeutic post for me, to be followed momentarily by a trip to the Sharks’ last home game of the round robin in order to complete the process of regaining my huevos. Speaking of baseball, the past couple days have thrown beautiful chaos into the season. On Sunday the same three teams that have dominated the entire semifinals looked to be in great shape. But on Monday the 0-11 Zulia Eagles snapped their sixteen game losing streak dating back to the first round and upset the Aragua Tigers. On the same day the Magallanes Navigators beat the Anzoátegui Caribbeans to prevent them from recapturing first place. Yesterday Magallanes dealt Anzoátegui another loss while Aragua claimed a huge win against La Guaira. Now the standings are as follows:

Aragua 9-4
Anzoátegui 8-5
Magallanes 7-6
La Guaira 7-6
Zulia 1-11

Aragua of course is in good shape, probably needing to win just one of their last three games to make the championship series. They face Magallanes twice and Anzoátegui once to wrap up the round robin. Anzoátegui has two games against cellar-dwelling Zulia in addition to their top of the table clash. Magallanes and La Guaira face off tonight in a critical matchup, and the Sharks go on to face Zulia twice more before their schedule ends. Almost miraculously Magallanes has come back to win five out of six and they now control their own destiny.

With tonight being a must-win game for both teams, La Guaira enjoying the home support, and Magallanes being the most popular team in the country, I am expecting a great atmosphere. I only hope that nobody tries to sell me any home improvement products while I am there.