Well, there we were...
We wandered onto the Oktoberfest grounds on Thursday evening, and we tried unsuccessfully to get into several tents (HB was first, after which, it was all a blur), but ALL the tent's doors were closed. Were they too full? Maybe. But we also saw a lot of security as we emerged from the train station, all staring at a sheet of paper with 3 pictures on it, as they surveyed the crowd. My party of 5 eventually staggered past the Paulaner tent, each in search of some brew, when I spied one of the side doors just beginning to crack open - I gave the sign, and we rushed... and alas, we were in.
We then set out in search of a table (you gotta have a table before you can order a beer).
So, we wandered about aimlessly, and with each minute, we grew more and more depressed... we were so close, yet we were so far...
THEN IT HAPPENED!!!
I was proudly sporting my XXL BN T-shirt...
As we walked along the outside rail, in search of the tell-tale cluster of empty mugs that indicates a soon-to-depart party, I noticed this guy rising to his feet, looking for all the world as if he knew me... NO FREAKIN' WAY!!! As my brain shifts gears - from looking for tables and empty mugs, to one of assessing a pending threat (hey, I'm originally from LA, and this guy might be a threat), I realized that I recognized him as well... but only from his photographs... on the BN website!! It was my BN T-Shirt that gave ME away.
Yeah, we ran into Justin, Chris White, Daniela, Nathan, and friends.
Well, after a few hugs and kisses, and maybe a photo or two, we moved on. I'm sure not one to bother folks - after being the manager of an upscale Newport Beach nightclub for many years back in the 1980's, and witnessing the mobs of well intentioned fans descend on the likes of Bill Medley & Bobby Hatfield (Righteous Brothers), Steven Stills, and others who were just trying to have a quiet night out with friends, I swore I'd never be one of those descenders. So, we walked around the tent for another 30 minutes or so, and we still couldn't find a table. Oh, the torture!!! THOUSANDS and THOUSANDS of drunks (or soon to be drunks), all with a liter of Oktoberfest bier (Paulaner's Martzen, I believe) hoisted up to their lips, and I just stood there with nothing but two empty hands, and drool running down the sides of my beard.
So, screw it!!! I threw my principles to the wind and we DESCENDED on our brewcaster's table, humbly begging them to only allow us to USE their table for a few minutes in order to order a few beers, to which they graciously AGREED!!! And then they invited us to join the table - THEY WERE GREAT!!!
Justin, Chris, Daniela, Nathan, and others.... If you read this, THANKS!!!
Who'd have thought that of all the days, and of all the tents, and of all the tables, and of all the drunks, (Jeez, I sound like Bogart) that I'd happen upon the BN's senior leadership? And then, that they'd be responsible for SAVING me and mine with their gracious nature!!!
Justin - you do need to do a feature on the Hash House Harriers (H3), the self-proclaimed "International Drinking Club with a Running Problem." It's not a hash if there's no beer - and I'm fed up with most hashes bringing MILLER LITE to the hash. They'll be a GREAT story, and maybe we can influence them to improve their beer selection. I started hashing in Japan (Tokyo), but it was the Aloha H3 (Honolulu, HI) that introduced me to craft beer, it was also the Aloha H3 that introduced me to one of Honolulu's finest brewers (Dave Campbell, Big Aloha Brewery), and so it was the hash that got me into homebrewing.... I was eventually re-assigned to Okinawa, and I was back to drinking swill. HOMEBREWING was my salvation...
On-On!!
Namako
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