We shared a cabin and she happened to be wonderfully talkative in the only language I understand. Most Germans seem to be...at least those schooled post crumble of the Third Reich. And it was comforting, going into a new city with something of a foot up. Compared to Paris, Munich is a walk in the park...
Though, since I'll be rarely sober and likely spitting drunk most of the time, let's preemptively dub it...too close to Call.
...
Before even making it out of the train station, I wandered into a Nationalistic Drunken Halloween. Remember the over the top scenes from Lampoon's European Vacation...Clark Griswold and company? Yeah...not over the top. Not one penny, drop or feather. Dead on.
I maneuvered my way through the frenzied streets to a hostel I had heard about and felt obligated to grace with my being. The two women behind the counter were already at least a liter or two deep, so when I stepped up to ask for a room without a reservation, only 50% of them could manage to keep a straight face. Ms. Composure made some phone calls while I waited. Denied...denied...denied...
As I grew unsettled, they bantered back and fourth with German words of problem solving before the heckler-ish one turned to me, stopping on a dime to pull out perfect English...
"You have some pretty big balls, showing up on the first day of Oktoberfest without a reservation."
She said it with a glow in her eye, as if waiting for me to show her. I didn't. Her glow faded just as the constructive of the two, my phone baron, hung up...and with partial success.
"One bed left. Probably the last in Munich. They said they would hold it for a half hour. 12 blocks, can you do that?"
"For the last bed in this town, and on these fleet fucking feet? Circle it and with love, I'm gone."
She did, I was. 4 blocks in, my head was down as flirting perfection rolled through my ears...OK Computer. Around me, the crowd stiffened. I looked up and they were stopped dead...cut off by the Oktoberfest parade. There was nowhere to move. No. Where. I backtracked from the dierection I came, began to head East, checking every street, every sidestreet I passed. Blocked. Blocked. Blocked. Apparently, nobody...and I mean nobody fucks with the flow of Munich's Oktoberfest parade. I stomped 3 blocks, 5 blocks, 7 blocks and finally found a break in one of the two directions. 20 minutes burned and I had doubled the distance while yet finding a way to cut over. 3 blocks down, 5 blocks. It was in this moment that I simultaneously realized:
1)There was daylight up ahead...an opening.
2)I could have initially waited it out, enjoyed the drunken festivities and would have already been sitting in my room.
I cut over and began to triple time it, worried that for the first time in my life, everything might not work out.
20 minutes late, I showed up to the hostel. "401. I hope you know we only gave you the room because they said you were cute...and foolish."
Last bed in Munich.
...
One of these days, Life is going to speak down and offer me her kind wisdom. "Only dipshits and assholes live with that kind of irresponsibility. One of these days, mark my words, it's going to catch up with you."
But not today...and not now. I have to foot it to the Hofbrauhaus...they're serving shenanigans in the form of liter size beers.
Welcome to Germany.
