Kim y Novak

KIM Y NOVAK
WHERE? 4900 Guemes, cross st. Godoy Cruz (Palermo)
COST? no cover, around 15 pesos for a beer
BEST TIME TO GO? I wouldn´t, but if you´re gonna, after 3am
FIRST IMPRESSION? A good place to get drugs at the very least


Kim y Novak. The keyword here is NO.

While even your most recent travel book or website review will hail K&N as the happening 20-something underground queer bar, this tiny and strange place has recently fallen from grace and is now quite literally a bar simply on the wrong side of the tracks. Residing in the rumored old trans red-light district, the only queer people we saw here were either working on the corner or behind the bar. Expect any conversation struck up here to be of little (or illegal) substance.

Let´s elaborate. Our first week here, the search for people or a place that maybe could relate to us little San Francisco treats was on. We read up religiously on the gay/lesbian bars in the area. And then we attempted to go out for our first time. When we hail a cab, the driver can´t understand the street names I´m giving him because my accent is butchering it so much. After cruising through pretty Palermo, he drops us off at the train tracks. Of course. Get out of the cab. Some tweeked out dude kindly offers to sell us drugs. Walk a little bit faster to the bar. Look inside. No one´s there. Weird, seeing as we read that this was one of the most popular gay bars...hmm...ask the guy inside if they´re open. He tells us yes, and that we´re the first ones. Right.

Now we know that porteños like to go out late. Which is why we´ve been hanging out in our apartment all night waiting for it to get later and later as we´re too broke to do the all-American pre-game routine and not cool enough to have made any local friends yet. We even took a little siesta. Having also read that this bar opens at 9:30, we left at midnight. But of course, we´re the first ones.

Having already paid to take a cab here, and not knowing where else to go, the girlfriend (Casey) orders a steep 15-peso beer and we sit in the tiny joint for an entire hour watching the bartenders eat their dinner. I wonder if they felt awkward, too. The sound of the door makes us hopeful before a pack of straight people on some triple date come in and then proceed to turn around in their chairs to stare at us.

A few more people filter in around one. Luckily, one of them comes over to talk to us. Not so luckily, this person happens to be Cokey Bob.

Now, before Cokey Bob had earned his nickname, I had been working on being more open to strangers now that I was in a new place seemingly not filled with the crazies found in San Francisco. So, we scoot over on the couch and offer this man a seat. We proceed with the introductory and painfully basic Spanish conversation most expats we´ve met are very familiar with. What we´ve come to call ¨Tengo Dos Hermanos¨- as in, I can tell you where I´m from, how old I am, how long I´ve been here, that yes, I love Buenos Aires and that I have two brothers (or, in my case, one sister) and then, because I did NOT do enough of my flashcards before we came here, our conversation can really advance no further.

Cokey Bob, however, braves to take us to the next level. At this point, we´ve been city gals enough to know that it´s quite possible that Cokey Bob´s middle name is Hard Liquor. This inkling is further justified when, with slurring Spanish and an unbalanced lean-in, he asks if he can ask us una pregunta personal. Sure, Cokey Bob. Have at. ¿Son ustedes parejas? Yes, Cokey Bob, we´re partners. Yes, lesbians. Now if the stare-down from the triple daters didn´t tip us off that this place wasn´t as queer as we´d read, this whispered question certainly did. Though not taken aback by our pareja status, Cokey excuses himself to the bathroom.

At this point, Casey and I discuss our escape plan. Shockingly quick-like-a-bunny, Cokey´s back. Unsurprisingly, he´s seeming a little more alert. At this point he asks Casey her name. ´Casey´, he says ´would you like some coke?´ ´Hmm, no, that´s ok. But thanks,´ Casey says. Awkward silence. As in most of these situations we seem to find ourselves in, I try to make a joke like ´Normally, Cokey Bob, we would, but if we want to return to the States after this trip (and after this, we do), we probably shouldn´t´. No response. Cokey ´s a tough crowd. He turns to Casey, earnestly looking her in the eye. ´No money, Casey´, he assures her. Yeah, we know....so, we´re gonna go. Nice meeting you, ok bye. Pobrecita dyke expats. Try to go to a gay bar and all we get is Cokey H.L Bob and a bartender that looks an awful lot like Alan Cummings...