Why, that looks like Victoria's copy of The Buenos Aires Affair, doesn't it? In my bookshelf? Did I steal it after all? No! Its mine, mine, mine.
It turns out, blogging can be practical, too. Or at least it can help you satisfy your unnecessary, greedy desires. While I was writing my first post on this book, I tried to find a picture of the edition that's currently available. Well, I never found one that was big enough to include here, but while surfing, I accidentally hit the jackpot. I found several booksellers here selling that very edition. So I surfed around some more and found copies for sale from 40 to 90 pesos. The 40-peso copy was for sale at DeRemate.com, which is the local Ebay. As in most seemingly simple transactions here, it required dauntless perseverance (and a little deceit), but I did it! To register at the site, you actually need a DNI, which is like an Argentine social security number. I don't have one. I tried using my SSN on the registration form, but that didn't work. Now, I now that DNIs have only 8 digits, so I tried again, using my SSN but without the last digit. Success! Well, sort of. My account was active for one day only, until they realized something was up and told me I'm suspended until I correct info in my profile. But ha ha ha, it's too late. I already made it through to the seller.
The auction system is different from Ebay in that after the auction is over, you arrange payment and delivery directly with the seller. Going to his place to pick it up and paying him there seems to be the most common option (and the most convenient for me). Turns out, the seller is a book store in—irony, you saucy fellow you—Caballito, about ten minutes from Victoria's house.
I took the beautiful old wooden A-line subway to pick up my booty. Here I am there, looking smug.
It's a charming place with the mandatory bookstore cat heavily asleep on top of the computer monitor. Cat slightly rouses to give an aloof OK to my scritching. The bookseller gets my book—Yes! I want it!—and then I notice that inside the front cover, the price is marked as 20 pesos. Hmmm. I guess there's a rather steep buyer's premium for being sucker enough to use the Internet. I sniff around the shop, but one lust object is enough today, so I go to pay, and he just asks for the 20 pesos. Oh joy—I got the girl and she's a cheap date, too. How do I feel? Call it smug2.
(Actually, my copy has a very slight oil stain in the white background field to lower left, so it's a tiny bit less perfect than Victoria's. Luckily, I haven't noticed that.)
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