"Hell no! Two-hundred-freakin' dollars each?!", hubby delivered in his usual monotone but he was obviously upset.
"But we're already on the same continent and we'll be in Brazil during carnival season! It is no coincidence!", I was on the brink of tears. Okay, I might have actually cried.
We were merely choosing which sector in the Sambódromo (Sambadrome) we're booking tickets for, yet it felt like we were weighing our options for buying a house.
"Maybe we should just... Separate.", I was of course kidding. But this led to a series of petty quarrels.
Sufficient directional signs were placed on streets surrounding the Sambadrome. Finding respective entrances was easy, but because the stadium's colossal (length is about 700 meters), it still took us a while to get in. We arrived at Sector 5 about half an hour before eight in the evening. It was almost full and we managed to snag the last seats.
The hubby fit right in the sea of multicolored wigs. For someone who blatantly opposed attending the carnival, he wasn't the least bit ashamed to order beer first and... To shake his booty when the pulsating samba rhythms blasted through the speakers.
Now how do I convince him to do this again someday.
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