#7: In another life

The funny (and by funny I mean annoying) thing about having several different jobs is that it’s unnecessarily difficult to explain to someone what exactly it is that I do.

Sure, variety is the spice of life, but when I start to explain how I work both in travel and marketing, and as a freelance journalist, and podcast host/producer, and many other things in between, I start to wonder if my CV gives off less “multi-faceted, well-rounded individual” vibes and more “Professional ADHD” vibes.

I’ve worked at multinational firms, small local startups, and ventured off on my own. I’ve taken on low-paying gigs hoping it would turn into something more lucrative, given away my time because I wasn’t savvy enough to know otherwise, and struggled with earning in a currency that depreciates so quickly it makes your head spin.

On the tough days, I pause and wonder if I’m just a smattering of wasted potential and lack of focus, doomed to struggle with the feeling that I should have made more strategic choices in life.

But when I find myself going down the rabbit hole of comparing myself to other people (I know it’s futile, but like my nail biting, it’s a bad habit I have a hard time kicking), I remind myself that I’ve done some pretty cool shit and have had hundreds of rewarding experiences - both personal and professional - as a result of this non-linear path.

After all, it’s this amalgamation of activities that’s gotten me to where I am today, writing a newsletter on my couch while my dog snores quietly beside me. Rather than worry about aging out of the system - which as a geriatric millennial™️ is a very real, if not nebulous, fear - I’ll instead celebrate the fact that I’m not surrounded by mind-numbing spreadsheets and tech bros in vests on a daily basis.

In hindsight, it makes perfect sense that Argentina is where I’ve chosen to build a life. Where else could I try my hand at literally anything, pivoting and evolving when the conditions call for it, starting anew and not needing to provide much, if any, explanation?

As someone who struggles to commit to just one thing (for better or for worse), it’s the perfect landscape that allows my quasi-chaotic brain to thrive.

Profesiones Porteñas At Which I’d Excel

When I’m feeling existential (and/or would rather do anything than tackle my to-do list), I daydream about what my life would look like if I occupied one of the many jobs that are quintessentially porteño.

Based on my skill set, qualifications, and goals, I’ve come up with a shortlist of potential roles where I think I’d shine. Hey, given how tough the job market has become, a girl’s gotta keep her options open.

🧹 Encargada

My qualifications: I’m a morning person, wear the same outfit every day (especially in neutral colors), love knowing everybody’s business, and enjoy being needed by as many people as possible. I’ve perfected the “stop and chat,” and would very much enjoy snooping on residents’ activities through the security cameras. It would be fun to become buddies with my fellow encargados, shooting the breeze and chusmeando like our lives depended on it.

It would be a challenge to go into the boiler room alone (scary) or deal with vermin (ew), and I’d feel deeply conflicted about wasting so much water by hosing down the sidewalk every morning. But I’m confident that I’d be a positive addition to the team - everyone always hates the building administrator the most, anyway.

🚬 Kiosquera

My qualifications: I enjoy indulging in casual neighborhood gossip, love people-watching at all hours, and excel at being grumpy. I’m a good judge of character and would allow the more trustworthy clients to run up a tab; all dogs would be welcome at my establishment. I’d also be OK with breaking the law and selling booze after 10pm. Living on the edge!

The hardest part for me would be remembering how much things are supposed to cost. I would be extremely put out by having to update prices on a weekly (daily?) basis. Maybe I could start the first “pay what you wish” kiosko and let my customers decide. On second thought, I’d probably go bankrupt in three months. This is why I don’t have a business, and why I’ll never get an MBA.

🚕 Taxista

My qualifications: I know how to follow the speed limit, use my blinkers, and can keep a car clean and tidy. These are all factors that are certainly not a current requirement to drive a taxi in Buenos Aires, which is why I believe I’d truly thrive in this role. I love to bitch about politics and yell at people who block the intersection. Oh, and every time Africa by Toto came on the radio, I’d turn the volume up full blast.

I would definitely struggle with having to drive creepy men places, especially at night. I’d probably charge them extra, you know, just to make it worth my while. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. If you have an issue with that, take it up with the bear.

🚌 Colectivera

My qualifications: I memorized the entire Guía T during the years 2007-2009, I am always on time, and I’m a staunch supporter of public transit. I’m excellent with remembering names and faces, so any regulars would feel extra special. I’d create a WhatsApp group to let riders know my status (and show off my impressively curated collection of stickers). And I know how to brake gently, which must count for something.

My personal inspiration for this role is Rogelio López, famous and beloved chofer for the 152 line. If more bus drivers in Buenos Aires were like Rogelio, the world would be a better place. He makes up for every jerk that refuses to open the doors for you, even when the bus is just a few meters past the official stop, and the ones who get mad when you try to crack the windows a little bit in winter. Ventilación cruzada, people! Did we learn nothing from COVID?!

*Fun fact: My birthday, September 24, also happens to be Día del Colectivero. Coincidence? Certainly not!

🐾 Paseadora de Perros

My qualifications: I like dogs more than people, know how to command a group, and need to walk as many steps as possible each day or I will perish. Honestly, if you think I need to explain why I’d be good at this job, we’re going to need to seriously reconsider some things. Also, carabiners.

I’d probably keep my manada small, somewhat of a boutique service if you will. And I’d have to make sure that La Rambla would save room for all of us so we could keep our morning routine going strong. Maybe I’d get us matching t-shirts, or something similar to boost morale on chilly winter mornings. I especially love when the paseador’s own dog joins the pack but walks ahead of the rest, kind of like “I’m here in a professional capacity, you know.”

Interlude

Gurl, same.

Miscellaneous Roundup

Here’s a list of things that I’ve consumed and enjoyed on a very deep level lately.

• Hacks, Season 3: Absolutely perfect television. I laughed, I cried, I wanted to crawl inside of it and never come out, if that were even possible. If Hacks doesn’t win every Emmy, I will go on a hunger strike. Streaming on MAX and Prime Video.

• Blue cheese ice cream: With candied quince and pecans, from Obrador Florida in Palermo. Made with premium artisanal ingredients, it’s a combination I never thought I’d be swooning over, and yet here we are. If you’re local, note that the shop is closed until July (*sobs*).

• The HFStival playlist on Spotify: The annual HFStival was a canon event in the life of any DC native. It’s where I fell in love with live music and nurtured my baby punk spirit. It’s coming back this September and I’m gutted I can’t make it.

• Razor clams at Ultramarinos: Buenos Aires has many things, but an abundance of quality seafood isn’t necessarily one of them. Luckily, that’s improving thanks in part to the flamante restaurant from Maxi Rossi and Diana Mejías (special shout-out to Anto, who keeps absolutely everything - and everyone - in check). While there I devoured an embarrassing amount of oysters, mussels, and squid, with #noregrets. Run, don’t walk, and try it for yourself.

• This iconic runway look: I’m a bit ambivalent about the latest season of All Stars, but the level of GottMik’s artistry leaves me absolutely gooped every time.

• Boiler Room Buenos Aires: Sometimes you just need to dance it out to some fucking hard-ass techno until 6am. That’s all.

I guess I’ll stop here, if only because my inner saboteur is breathing down my neck and telling me I need at least another round of edits. Can I blame Gemini season for this? Please, someone, tell me that I can.

Until next time,

Paige

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