Who? Me? Gone bananas in the midst of Buenos Aires traffic? What makes you think that?

I was behaving myself, mostly, thinking of what wonderful legs that lady in front of me had, how pleasant it would be for me and for her to spend a few hours exploring the cardenal points of our bodies; and why politicians  can get away with lies while I can't; if in my afterlife people will remember me, and lot's of other morsels.

My step was brisk and inspite of the sickening grey drizzle the pain in my back, on my hips and on my big toes had mysteriously disappeared. I was in that state that millions around the world seek: sublime happiness. I knew not why. Nor shall I ever know if it were but a dream.

The only thing that darkened this state of self-love and harmony was the contradiction between what I thought and what I could realistically imagine doing. Oh. And the terrible roar of the traffic on Buenos Aires' over crowded streets.It was like the end of the world, the sound of all of the world's wars put together. 

It was then,with my ears caught between my dream world and that dreadful roar, that I dared cross Corrientes street in Buenos Aires. Zoom! Crash! Och! A motor cycle boomed by on the right, nearly sending me to heaven;another on the left might well have sent me to Hell; and behind a bus loomed and gurggled more nervious than I was before my first date. A harsh and heavy voice shouted at me with the fury of a winter storm: "¡idiota! ¡Qué hacés! ¡Andáte a cupar la leche de tu madre!"

Frankly, I was unprepared for such an insult. What had I done wrong? The light was green, wasn't it? My God! why is everything so silent. I can't hear a thing. Neither a car nor a motor cycle nor a crass insult. Nothing. Could it be that I'm dead? Yet another traffic casualty? Hey! There's that woman with the sexy legs. She's beckoning, no, she's approaching me, her lips are red and round and in the form of the sweetist kiss you could ever imagine...death is not so bad after all! There's no noise contamination!