Ein Bier für Sie heute? (Would you like a beer?)
So the festival is split up into different countries. You can walk over to the Mexico area and grab a beer and tamale, or head over to England and have a beer to wash down your fish and chips--But once I discovered the German area, I spent most of the weekend there.
3 reasons the German area is my favorite:
Drinking songs. It’s a blast to get 40 to 50 mostly drunk people to sing as they drink. Add in the complication of trying to sing in a foreign language, the results are hilarious.
Beer steins. What better way to drink beer than an overly decorated, over sized mug? Add to that, a cool little cap with a small lever to keep you from spilling your beer!
Beer Frauleins! The beer babes serving the beer. All of them were blonde, stacked, and hot. They were all decked out in Bavarian costume too-- Short skirts with petticoats, lace-up vests, black chokers. Some of them were in braids. Hot!
So I spent wwwwaaaaaayyyyy to much time there. I got to know one of the Frauleins fairly well. Her name is Katrina, but since the hurricane, she goes by “Kat”. I thought we really hit it off. I realize now I was an idiot because the woman must be a good ten to twelve years younger than me—I’m 34. The problem is, most of the time I don’t feel like I am in my thirties. I feel like a kid—most of the time I feel like I’m pretending to be an adult.
So I usually don’t chase after women so much younger than myself—but the beer was flowing, and people were singing. She and I had several really good conversations about Texas (where I am from), how she wants to be an actress/how I know people in television production, and how we both love professional basketball. Plus, not only was she amazingly beautiful, she was funny. I decided to forget the age difference, and go for it.
As I get to the German area today, I see Kat just as she drops a tray full of beers.
Red faced, she quickly gathered everything up and headed away from the crowd. I noticed that in her hurried state, she didn’t see her bag of tickets (we give her tickets for beer) that she dropped. I grabbed the bag and followed after her.
I found her sitting on an ice chest behind a stand selling “sausage on a stick”. She had her hands covering her face, and was quietly crying. I start to back away, to give her some privacy, but she must have heard me walk up, and she looked my way.
“Your bag” I hand it to her. “You dropped it.”
She tells me that she would have had to pay for the beers out of her own pocket, if she had lost the tickets. She was very appreciative, and gives me a hug.
We share a moment, so I asked her out.
Her demeanor instantly changed and she lets me have it with a mean look and rush of angry words. “Does it ever stop? Do you know why I dropped that tray? Because some asshole stuck his hand up my skirt and groped me! And you thought just because you brought me my bag, I would go out with you? What are you, 40? You’re almost as old as my dad!”
She said a bunch of other stuff and then marched off.
I stood there feeling very old. I guess I’ll see the rest of the festival now, as I can’t see going back into the German area right away.
1 comment:
Very well written and good reading.
Thank you
Mandee
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