Kickin' It Munich-Style, Take 8

Our first few forays into the world of Munich drinking are shot down cold. The first bar we encounter features some sort of Polynesian motif. It's like drinking inside Gilligan's Island. We promptly turn around and leave. The next bar is palatable but quiet—not exactly what we had in mind for Bonus Night. El Dilector asks the locals where to go.

We walk for approximately 900 miles. No, seriously. I don't know which direction we're going. I don't understand how there could be another street near the church that we've missed six times. Really. Hell. It's starting to rain. We ask directions again. Walk across a courtyard. There…a sign in the distance. Oh yes, we've found it. Remember Bob Popular's? Four bars in one? This is almost as good. Two bars in one: one Australian and one a good 'ol English pub.

So we hang out in the Aussie side for a few minutes, have a drink and check out the scenery. I observe that all the exit signs in this country feature a man running for his life. It's not just the word EXIT and an arrow. It's this little animated man and he looks like he's got a fire under his ass. I guess no one was confident we'd all know the German word for Exit.

We venture to the English side, where we manage to score a spot at the bar, which is good, except I'm directly under this spotlight and I feel like the police are about to ask me questions. Oh well, good enough. And we're lucky enough to meet more funny Brits. Baldie and Bawdy.

Baldie explains German women to us:

"German women are boring. Here's a German woman for you: We can have sex on Wednesday at 8:45. Saturday at 2:30, we will have sex for precisely 21 minutes. And Sunday I'm going to play with my vibrator (The Blue Dolphin) - And you're like, can I watch?"

Bawdy proceeds to tell us a story about some guy and a cattle prod. No clue how it all happened at this point, as we're sipping the Baby Guiness, but we come to the conclusion that you know you've had a bad night when you've been shocked by a cattle prod. We also learn that Bawdy is a bricklayer. Hell, yeah! We finally got the whole house built.

More shots arrive and Baldie says to the bartender, "Let me give you some money now. Those will taste better once I pay for them." Good tip.

Another one down the hatch. Oy. We were going to be good tonight. And now? My insides are floating in alcohol. I'm pickled. It's almost 2 a.m.

"Look, here, here's something for your book," Baldie says. "There are two types of Americans: (1) loud, cocky and arrogant and (2) nice." Interesting. I didn't realize the English had so many opinions about Americans. My opinions about the English?

Then: They have cool accents.
Now: They still have cool accents.

Then: They have bad teeth, like Austin Powers.
Now: Not all of them are like that.

That's really all I knew about the English. To further my education, I pull out the map of Great Britain and ask for their input and some items are added, such as: The Isle of Man, which is tax-free, and the Isle of Wight. There are some drawings added as well, that don't make a whole lot of sense.

Uh-oh. Weird German Boy. Another one. This guy keeps leaning over my shoulder every time I write something down. He wants me to translate the phrase: You've had a bad night when you've been shocked by a cattle prod. Unfortunately, this phrase is written directly underneath the insults about German women. I'm trying to keep the notebook closed but Weird German Boy is so intrigued he keeps asking questions. And language barrier or no, he CANNOT understand that we've been skiing in Kitzbuhel for a week. After the fifth time, I feign deafness.

Closing time already and we have a flight at 10 a.m. Oh well, what's another drink to help us sleep on the plane? Baldie and Bawdy take us to another bar. Remember how El Dilector and I walked 900 miles? We walk another 900. Just to get to this…weird…Australian bar where people are dancing badly. You know how you dance when you've had about seventeen cocktails and you know you're just slamming on the floor? But you in fact look like you're Elaine having an epileptic seizure? Yeah. That's what's happening here. With some really bad jackets. Dude, these guys are wearing striped blazers. Not pinstripes. Striped. Like clowns.

And then the culminating moment: Some guy stumbles over to a table and manages to knock the whole thing over. Is that a new dance move I don't know about? Drinks, candles, bottles—everything goes crashing to the floor. Wooohooo! See what I mean about drinking after 2 a.m.? There's just no point…except to fuel Dark Side of Drunk. Thank you Striped Drunken Boy.

Time to get a cab back to the hotel. Good night Munich!!

-Shakira 01.26.04