Oktoberfest: Part 2

After experiencing the adrenaline rush of standing on a table and drinking in front of thousands of people the day before, those of you who know me probably assumed the shenanigans would only multiply the following day. Good assumption. We make it into the tent around 9 and the first round is served at about 9:30. On this particular morning we are lucky enough to have, sitting at the end of our table, one of the largest German men I saw at Oktoberfest. He is about 6`6 and nothing short of massive. Anyway, he finishes his first liter (note this is about 3 beers by the American standard and it's much stronger than regular beer) at exactly 9:37 and then precedes to order another one. I am very impressed and make quite a fuss. I urge him to chug the rest of it, and Hans, as we named him, wanting to put on a little show, begins to chug. As he progresses, more and more people turn around to observe and to shout their approval. With about 1/5 of a liter to go, he simply stops drinking, which makes the crowd horribly upset. I don't like it when people are upset, so I step up to the plate; I grab my beer, jump up on the table, toss off my hat, and begin to drink. The place erupts, and once again that feeling of adrenaline that is as vital to my survival as food and water shoots through my body and i down my liter like a champion. Well the place settles down eventually and our waiter comes by and asks me if I'd like another. My response? "Of course. Are you joking?" My beer arrives about 5 minutes after I order it, and at this point a thought pops into my head that was more of a joke than anything else. I turn to Jon and say, "How funny would it be if I did it again?" Well Jon's reply is not at all what I expected. "If you chug that beer the next one is on me." Mike, overhearing this, chimes in that he'll pay for the one after. Now I am in Arts and Sciences, not Wharton, but a little quick math tells me that one liter at 9 euros x 2 x 1.5 for the exchange rate means that if I take this bet I will be making about 30 dollars in 20 seconds, which is a damn good deal. I mull over this for a little while and as I'm about to tell Mike that I will accept, an idea pops into my head. I observe a table of Germans sporting some fine leather leiderhozen standing on their table belting out drinking songs and it hits me: Why drink a liter by yourself when you can challenge German men to drink a liter with you? At this point I approach the table of Germans, wearing, by the way, a felt set of green suspenders, a button down white shirt and a green hat. I should share with you that in my experience, at Oktoberfest, you are judged not by the color of your skin nor by the content of your character but rather by the quality of your leiderhozen. A man with a handsome pair of hand-me-down leather leiderhozen is respected and embraced, whereas we, in our cheap felt leiderhozen, were...well, not respected. As I approach the table, the Germans look at each other and begin to laugh. One pipes up, "maybe next year you find some real leiderhozen," which the rest of them find hilarious. I am not amused. My response is what anyone with a competitive spirit would have said: "Maybe next year you learn how to drink." A hush falls over them. "Who wants to challenge me," I offer, thrusting my liter into the air for added affect. After a few seconds of silence it becomes clear, much to my dismay, that nobody is willing to go up against me. They make up a host of excuses none of which I really care to listen to so I call them all cowards, and walk away in disgust. Fortunately, in order to get back to my seat I must pass by Hans, which reminds me that I need not have looked further than my own table to find a worthy opponent. I have jon translate for me, as Hans speaks little to no English, and he accepts my challenge. We both stand up on the table and the crowd erupts in cheers. We "post" (the German word for cheer) and begin drinking. About 8 seconds in I'm halfway done and he is about 3 quarters done but here he makes a critical mistake. He stops to see how much I have left, and I, sensing the moment of opportunity upon me, down the rest of my liter for all I'm worth. 4 seconds later I slam down the glass, victorious by no more than 1/2 a second. I shout out the first thing that comes to my mind: "USA!" Fortunately the crowd did not hear me over their screams of excitement.

(Hans and I)

Well at this point our waiter comes by, and they are, for those that have never been to Oktoberfest, notoriously stingy. They are known to withhold change from 10 Euros and take advantage of drunk customers. Well my waiter asks me if i want another beer, and at this point, having downed 2 liters within a half-hour of one another, I say "I think I'll wait." But his reply is: "This one is free," leaving me with no choice but to accept...there is no beer like free beer. When a camera crew came by our table my need to be in the spotlight yet again outweighed my better judgement and I hopped up on the table and took down my third liter of the morning. The crowd now loved me. What can I say? Sometimes you just win on style

  

Chugging a liter to the delight of thousands