Because everything goes better with hot argentine guitarists

Ah yes, so it is wednesday, time for my bi weekly treatment of hot argentine guitarists. Now last week they depressed the hell out of me. Today I was already on the verge of death, so I figured, well, could it hurt?

and the answer is.................

Nope. I actually spoke to them! I know, I know, the shock, the horror, the unspeakableness of it all.

Actually, I have come to love this little coffee place. I am exhausted and should have gone to bed, but I heard them playing outside. I haven't missed them playing once yet.

And apparently they HAVE noticed.

I went inside and one of them, not the one I want desperately, started talking to me. I told him I loved it when they played the Piazzola. I did not tell them that I often dream of playing Piazzola, or that when I get that dreamy look in my eye it's because I'm remembering the piazzola. No. That would be bad. He said "You know Piazzola?"

Oh, never have I been so happy to own the film the Tango Lesson in my life!

So they went out and played some more. And for their last song of the evening, for me, they played a tango.

As I was leaving, they said, and I believe there was actual interest in their voices "So we'll see you on Sunday, right?"

Do I look like the woman to let two talented hot men down?

Do I?

Not only will I be there, but I might bring Smitten along for the ride. Ain't that a scary concept? Two highly articulate girls oogling two argentine men who know how handle their instruments.

The mathematical possibilities are mind boggling.