Snapshots of the Prost! Oktoberfest

I really have to get batteries for my camera.

Until then, here’s a couple hundred words to describe the snapshots I would have taken.

Snapshot: 11am, and a mostly empty bar. A few people are enjoying beer out of litre boots and the waitstaff are running around, trying to figure out where everything is and what the deal with today is. I plop myself down on one of the wide, but just a little too tall for my short legs stool.

Snapshot: I’m drinking Hofbrau Original out of a tall, narrow ceramic mug. It’s both deceptively heavier than it looks, and deceptively fuller than it looks. I am paying in cash and tell myself that I’ll leave either when it gets too crowded, or when I run out of money.

Snapshot: It’s getting busy, but people are spread fairly evenly amongst the three bars that are serving. I’m doing my usual thing, butting into conversations within earshot. Being obnoxious? Yep. Caring? Nope!

Snapshot: Ordering a plate of smoked sausage with rye bread, the bar tenders are beginning to get that frantic speed that is not yet in the weeds, but they can see the weeds from here.

Snapshot: Offering menus to people in line, offering suggestions to people who look confused. Two new taps have been added since I sat down, and of course I’ve tried… well, most of them. Eyeballing what will be my next choice, and being patient with the wait staff. I’ll flag one down eventually. They’re still being pretty darn awesome and nice, for it being pretty darn wild and wacky out here.

Snapshot: There’s got to be about twenty kegs in this bathroom! I wonder if they’ll notice if I snuck one out in my purse. Oh, wait, I left my purse to guard my bar stool.

Snapshot: Beer, beer, lederhosen, beer, adorable little girl in a dirndl, beer, ACCORDIONS! I WANT TO DANCE!

Snapshot: THE BAR IS SHINY!

Snapshot: Wow, I-5 is way far down there. I am walking! I am walking home! I am singing a song about walking home! I sing a song to the front door! Hello, front door! You are now locked and this is my couch but it’s really a pile of pillows on top of a twin mattress which makes it comfy and I am sitting down and singing about my comfy zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Snapshot: It’s 10pm. I just woke up from my five hour nap. I’d rather still be asleep, but my stomach is growling. Better make something to eat. Pasta. Pasta’s good, and fast. OW! What did I just kick? …why is my ceramic mug on the floor in the middle of the living room?

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