In Buenos Aires, the area around Constitución train station is a bit run-down, prostitutes and drug dealers on some streets, just some sketchy action which is right up my alley. The cafeterias in Buenos Aires are simple affairs, very much like blue collar diners with that rough urban sheen, men drinking beer at the counter in the morning. The food is fantastic, just basic fare, very affordable, robust chorizo squirting grease and flavor, milanesa and rice, just tremendous comfort food.
In this cafeteria on the outside of the building of the Constitución, I saw this one waiter who was striking, a bit melancholy, features a touch feminine, something sad in the eyes.
I left the street and stepped in and it was so obvious that I was an outsider. No one really goes to Constitución unless you live there or are looking for a daytime tryst. I ordered some food but the vibe was not right, I was too much of a spectacle to the patrons and staff. I ate my milanesa and left without exposing a frame, but I returned the next morning and was finally able to take the waiter’s photo.
The second image is one of my favorites of my time in Buenos Aires, one of those images that never really leaves me.