American Girl In Argentina

I spent a part of my 2007 summer in Buenos Aires thinking that it would make me fluent in Castellano Spanish. But those bilingual Argentines accommodated me a little too much sometimes and all I came back with was an added confidence for walking down the street. And I owe it to one man whose name I do not know. But I have now decided he handed me the best compliment I think I could ever get from a man.
On my way down Rodriguez Pena Street to meet some friends for empanadas, a man looked at me waiting for some kind of acknowledgement. (As most of them do to obvious female foreigners)
His stare followed me as I walked by and just as he disappeared from my peripheral view; I heard a deadpanned yet dignified, “Damn.” (IN ENGLISH!)
Now I just need to find me a man who will speak such Rhett Butler profanity to me.
Wouldn’t this story be so embarrassing if Charlize Theron was really just walking behind me and I didn’t know it. Well, she wasn’t. I turned around to check. At which point I said, “Gracias.”
So no, Provo Peter Priesthoods, don’t tell us “You look nice today.” Say it with fewer words. With feeling. As the Argentines. Because we all want to be the girl from Ipanema.

Tall and tan and young and lovely

The girl from Ipanema goes walking

And when she passes, each one she passes goes "Damn.”

When she walks she's like a samba that Swings so cool and sways so gentle,

That when she passes, each one she passes goes "a-a-ah!"

American Girl in Italy by Ruth Orkin
She's just pretedning to not like it. But we really do.