I think I mentioned in my last random posting that I went to Oktoberfest the weekend of October 1st. I am almost two weeks behind in my bloggings. There’s just not enough time. Just as a teaser we went and rocked downtown Frankfurt last Saturday. At least I think we rocked it. I vaguely remember walking out the front door of the house and meandering down a cement path towards a cab station where we were to be chauffeured to our alleged “rocking” facility.
But, Saturday at Marienplatz is a story that can not be left completely untold. However, the details must be slightly obscured to protect the guilty.
I guess our story starts at Oktoberfest. I was there, but it was very busy. The magic thing about the Munich Oktoberfest is there is no place to sit unless you get into a party tent and the party tents are completely full before lunch. On Saturday it was worse. By lunchtime, I was tired of standing and I was getting hungry and I didn’t want to eat standing up so I left and went to Marienplatz.
Another interesting thing that should probably be mentioned is that I got asked directions twice. Both times not in German and not in English. I either looked really smart, really friendly or someone had secretly taped a tour guide sticker to my shirt (in 10 different languages). I became very good at pointing. Oktoberfest that way, Marienplatz that way.
I must admit I wandered Marienplatz for a bit. They had some interesting stuff going on with some animal rights entertainment or something. Pictures of big ugly chickens with breasts and women wearing fur coats in little chicken wire pens. I’m not sure what it all meant, but the music was not bad and it was ever-so-slightly entertaining. Let’s see if I can find some pictures.
Interesting tidbit about the above picture. I think I hung out with the man in the blue shirt later that afternoon. Now, I’ll have to compare pictures. You can too.
I was looking for a place to sit down, have a beer and eat some lunch. I finally found a place. This place had 3 waitresses working the tables. I wish I had pictures. There was one cute and friendly waitress, one pretty and bitchy waitress, and one not so pretty and not so cute amiable waitress.
I managed to get the bitchy one. I honestly asked the cute and friendly waitress for a table, but somehow I got shuffled. It happens when you are sitting by yourself. They don’t want you to eat up in valuable seating. The cute and friendly waitress was the obvious choice for the larger parties.
I should also mentioned that they were both Asian. The amiable one, not so much.
So, I sat. I ordered a hefeweizen. The bitchy waitress asked me if I wanted large or small milk. So, I said, “A beer”. And she brought me some kind of pilsner.
I drank the pilsner, ordered some spaghetti and made eye contact with the cute and friendly waitress and pointed to my empty beer glass. She came and asked me if I wanted another one and I said, no, but I can have a hefeweizen. The bitchy waitress finally brought me a hefeweizen.
While this was going on some excitement was beginning to happen on my left. There were four English speaking people sitting at the table next to me. I assumed they were married couples so I didn’t gaze too much at the lovely ladies for fear of getting in trouble, but I did do a sly bit of eavesdropping. It’s almost impossible not to when surrounded by a bunch of people you can’t understand and then suddenly, you hear something strangely and alluringly intelligible.
Then Dick Van Dyke showed up. He asked, in German, if he could sit at my table. I said sure. I can’t remember what dialect I applied. It was probably some embarrassing form of Texan. I don’t really remember his name although I’m sure we shook hands and perhaps shared names. I call him Dick because he was a Chimney Sweep there in Munich. He was a very friendly guy. He spoke a little more English than I could speak German, but we shared a beer and finished our meal together.
Then the chatty woman at the table to my left gazed into my eyes and said something like, “So you can speak English? Have you been sitting there enjoying our conversation?” She said it smiling or I would have run.
Then Vince said some off the wall comment about the lack of good looking women over the age of 40. I can’t remember the exact sentiment. I was eavesdropping again and details are not important. Then, the chattty woman. We’ll call her Laura asks what I think of that.
I said, “He’s right. Good looking single women over the age of 40 are hard to come by.” Laura and her friend left. We’ll call her friend Kim. And I have that affect on people (the leaving part). But, in all fairness I had had over a liter of beer.
Then John, Vince and I start talking and I discover they are vacationing from South Africa. Of course, I have to know if they watched any of the World Cup games (which Vince admitted to).
Rattled side bar. Durango, my blog instructor, tells me I get rattled sometimes. This is a rattled sidebar. Actually I think 90% of this post has been rather rattled. In case you haven’t read any of my clever postings before I kind of make it a hobby of mine to study astrology. Now, Vince was reminding me an awful lot of an old buddy of mine back in Dallas. It was eerie. Turns out they are both Sagittarius. Sagittarius is a fire sign. Aquarius is an air sign and for some reason air feeds fire and huge billowing flames of insanity normally ensue. Oh, I’m an Aquarius. In case you, ahem, didn’t know that by now.
I can’t remember exactly how the subject came up. It’s possible he asked me if I’d ever been to Munich before and if I knew any cool spots. But, I think it was more creative than that. Anyway, I stayed across the street from Marienplatz about 7 years ago for about 3 months so I did know some places.
I told him about the Mexican bar down the way that serves tequila and the Irish bar down in the cellar next to the Church. He opted for the tequila. The explosion was near monumental.
He called his German buddy, Jergen, he called Kim back, he called Laura back and we all headed to Sausalitos.
I remember ordering the first round. They had Don Julio which is one of my faves that my other Sagittarius buddy introduced me to so we ordered that first and between the 5 of us finished off the bottle. Then, well, I don’t remember.
Rumors abound and my texting was embarrassing. And that’s all I’ve got to say about that. Here’s a picture…
See the guy in the blue shirt. I think he’s the same as the previous picture. I didn’t realize it until I started writing. That’s Vince toasting. Damn Sagittarius.