Contributed Story: Good Try in Germany
This story was contributed by Brian Radvansky. Check out his blog, Striving for Greatness.
Despite the utter squareness of the other students in our study abroad program, KT and I had some adventures in Deutschland. While they were practicing verb conjugations in our slumlord-governed apartments, we were buying drugs from the Turks in the park and smuggling mushrooms from the Netherlands.
After 5 weeks of studying German and drinking brown liquor, it was time to go. An opportunity to hit the road and see what excitement the rest of Europe had to offer. After hitting up our favorite happy-hour, we wheeled our collective 120 lbs. of luggage to the train station to take the 10:26 from Berlin to Munich.
On the platform, it was 10:20. Then 10:25. And 10:30. At 10:45, we realized something was up. Germans are NEVER late. This train was not coming. Using our rudimentary language skills at the information desk, we learned the train had been rerouted to the other side of town and would arrive at 12:13. We arrived at the new station around 11:30 and presented our tickets at the desk.
“Nein! Kein Zug am Abend!,” the attendant screamed at us, like most Germans do. The corners of the letters he spat were physically striking us. He explained the next train would be leaving at 5:26 AM. Frustration set in, for we had six hours to kill. We’d just walked a few miles dragging enormous suitcases, and were tired and dejected. KT had an idea. “Brain,” he said, “Let’s go to the bar.”
We rented a locker and stuffed our things inside. We ducked into the first bar we could find, happy to see the “Open till 4 AM” sign outside. The bartender empathized with our cause, giving us the first round for free. “We vills stay opened past four ifs you guyez vant to stay here and the drinking!”
Drink we did. Euros started to look more like Monopoly money with each Pilsner. We moved from German beer to fine scotches, expensive shots, and cocktails. We bought shots for the bartender, a few cute girls, and later for ugly girls. We were having a great time.
Eventually it was time to be on our way. Just as we were ready to pay, the bartender went into the back room. KT asked, “Hey Brain, you just want to bail?” We sprinted out the door and towards the station. The drizzle had grown into a maelstrom, adding to the drunken drama. When I was convinced we had escaped, I ripped open my soaking collared shirt like a young German Hulkster and spun it in the air above my head. KT let out his rebel yell.
As we high-fived, my excitement turned to fright. “KT,” I said, “The key was in my shirt pocket.” My shirt, or pieces of shirt, lay in the puddles with no key in sight. We dropped to all fours and searched underneath the streetlights desperate not to miss another train because of our unobtainable luggage. After a few minutes, KT found the key. Our excitement was more subdued at this point. I picked up my tattered shirt and we walked toward the station.
A voice screamed in broken English, “Hey guyez! What is your ideas? You have yet pay!” We saw the bartender. He stood, cell phone in hand, ready to call the Polizei.
KT cooly responded, “It’s cool man. My buddy lost the key. He freaked out, I came here to get him. How much do we owe you?”
“It’s 195 Euros!”
We paid, happy the Polizei were not getting involved. You saw what the Germans did to the Jews…
We walked on towards the station, broke with a drop of guilt. We had a nine-hour train ride on zero hours sleep with the inevitable hell of a hangover.
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hey…
been reading your blog for a little while now, and got to say that I love it. Your stark honesty is great to see, and I look forward to reading more about your adventures. My buddy and I made a little blog ourselves, and just wanted to pass it on to ya. Hope you get the chance to check it out, it’s at http://jamandahalf.com. Thanks,
Leks