Futebol and Cubans

June 25, 2009

After a quite successful day jailbreaking and unlocking iphones (which required running around Leblon in the rain until we found our Claro savior) we were starving.

On the Rua Dias Ferreiras we were looking for some place to eat around 5pm, which isn’t really a time that people eat here, they eat a big lunch aroudn 1 or 2pm, and then a late dinner, so most of the restaurants were empty.  There was one filled with men, which turned out to be a cigar shop and bar, where there were about two dozen men smoking real Cubans watching Brazil play South Africa in futebol.  It was quiet, and we ordered some water and food and looked around.

The tables were big, one surrounded by fifty-something lounging men, dressed in suit pants and blue buttondowns had a bottle of Johnny Walker Black, a silver ice bucket with tongs, and a few glasses.  The bottle of scotch had something like a tape measure running along the side, saying, presumably, drink what you like, what you will, and we’ll settle it up after.  A few others had similarly quiet, concentrating men, drinking bottles of vino tinto, and a waiter, in kakhi pants, white shortsleeve shirts and panama hats poured glasses of champagne.  All sips were taken quietly, so as not to create the faintest ripple in the liquids all around, or disturb the smoke rings floating through the space. It’s funny to see a bar filled with all men sipping daintily at the bubbly.

With two minutes to go in the game, Brazil scored, goaaaaaaaaal, and the bar erupted, only to fall back into its equalibrium as the players interviewed after the final seconds ticked out.

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