Dress for Success

Dress in Quito, as everywhere, bestows status. Hikers, local hipsters, and indigenous people trigger levels of respect.

I wore my sweatpants one day and was met with frowns that bordered on revulsion. This was unacceptable.

Before I slunk back to my room I noticed certain hombres command respect from all.

Late middle age or older. Thin gray hair that is devil-may-care longer. Macho moustache and sport coat enclosed belly hanging over khaki or black pants, and thus an impressive give-a-shit attitude.

The “Most Interesting Men in the World” given over to Dos Equis.

Hey! I have all those going on except the attitude.

I hung my khakis, white shirt, and sport coat for a shower steam smoothing while the hot water was still on, then practiced my haughty look in the mirror. Only weakness I could see was a pair of black penny loafers. I boldly sauntered onto la calle.

My new image inspired greetings, and gestures of respect like moving out of my way. A Colombian tourist with his son asked me for directions. I said I don't speak Spanish in Spanish and he said neither did he. He and his hijo had a fine laugh.

Emboldened, I went into a hotel bar and grill for a bite but learned that the restaurant was closed. Noticing the well-stocked bar I asked for a Cuba Libre and was advised they were empty bottles. I could have a cold Pilsner beer, though, ubiquitous in Ecuador.

The bar keep, also the room clerk, responded in basic English to my basic Spanish that he would keep the bar open this Domingo so that I could watch the playoffs.

This, I'm certain, was because of my dress and attitude.

Update: Mi amigo Vito did exactly what he said. He had his familia with him and I shall never forget his kindness.