Oktoberfest is probably the most entertaining event of the year. The 70 mile drive was definitely worth the gas money.
Kristina and I left around 4 p.m. to head to Fredericksburg, Texas. We didn’t know how to get there, so I simply typed in “Main Street, Fredericksburg” into my GPS in hopes of that city actually having a Main Street. Luckily for us, it does. From there, we decided we would just follow all the Germans toward the festival.
After wandering around the quaint little town, we found our way into the MarktPlatz festival grounds. All I could think about was food. Everything smelled so fantastic that I barely focused on the sexy suspenders, eccentric hats, and colorful knee socks until I was standing in line for my German sausage jambalaya.
We stood in line and got our deliciously expensive “animal fat stuffed into a synthetic casing,” (as Jennifer Aniston so eloquently explained sausage in He’s Just Not That Into You), and we took a seat to listen to the accordion players on one of the stages. This is where I saw a lot of elder Germans dancing and I couldn’t help but say, “AWWWWW. Old people in love.” (Click here to see Dane Cook’s opinion on this).
As the night progressed, and Kristina and I kept eating…and eating…and…eating, we sat down in front of another stage to listen to music and to people watch. This is when a classy gentleman reeking of stale beer decided to hit on two unsuspecting females (Kristina and me)…
“Would one of you ladies like to dance?” Slur slur slur…
I quickly moved my ring onto my wedding ring finger, held it up, and told him I was married. I then pawned him off on Kristina. She did not look happy with me when she got up to dance with the drunky, so I decided to milk it for all I could. While she was dancing, I called and left her a voicemail to point out that her dance partner had a mustard stain the size of a small child on his shirt and that he was probably completely unaware of it. I also informed her that I was taking pictures of their dance so that it would be forever remembered. When she got back, Drunky decided he did not want to leave us alone. So, Kristina was forced to admit her love of women to him.
Not a complete idiot, he explained how he knew all the lines of rejection given by women…shocker…and apparently women have told him that they are gay before. Well, our story was more believable. I feel like the more details a lie has, the more believable it will be. That being said, I began to encourage Drunky to ask her questions about her lifestyle. With the answers coming out, I almost believed her. The girl can think on her feet, and I was quite impressed. All the way down to her being a “chubby chaser” and expressing who wears the pants of the relationships.
Anyways, Germans are fun. I am excited for Wurstfest in New Braunfels.