Monday, 16 July 2012

The Night of all Nights.


I know this is going to be the most enjoyable entry to write and I am going to try and leave no detail of the night out. This was not only my favourite night here but also one of my favourite nights of all time. It starts in Joel Pennings living room drinking beers and watching 300. The flow of German lagers and Captain and drys commenced at 5 o’clock to the war crys of King Leonadias and Australian David Wenham (Best known for his role as diver Dan in seachange) as they fought to secure the longevity of Sparta. I couldn’t help think of the honor of Leonadias and the Spartan society, compared to today’s Greek society of riots, unpaid debt and cheap souvlaikis. If such a battle was to be carried out today, Xerexes could take the land in the hours roughly between 1-5pm, when the nation stops spreading the yoghurt sauce and lays down for a hard earned nap. Such a movie is great for beers as it’s all action, leaving plenty of dialogue to talk over with our regular drinking guff. During the flick I looked up the route for my first leg of the night and also to avert my jealousy toward Gerald Butlers masculine physique. I was to leave at 7.30 for an estimated arrival time of 8.30 to see defeater and to catch all the brutality of openers Code Orange Kids. I knocked 3 tergsteen hell beers (my favourite German beer to date) and dabbled in a few smooth captains before setting of for the Bus. I knocked the top off a beer to go and double-checked I knew my route before setting off. I was a little tipsy and ready for action, a combination both dangerous and exciting when you are alone in a foreign city. On the train I was really bored, no ipod to occupy my mind so I decided to open notepad on my phone and do what has been entertaining me a lot of late and write. Here are some excerpts.

- “fat man with a scooter just got on the train, he is puffing for dear life. Looking around at some of the body types here it’s safe to say Gerald Butler as Leonidas could pillage munich alone”

- “Guy carrying a new color jet printer. I bet his afternoon has been cleared for printing”

This is only some of the pointless minutia I wrote, but it always kills the time. I asked a man for some bearings when I got off at the stop and he pointed me in the right direction. I must have been in the hardcore district as this place had three small buildings. One contained local HC, the other hack punkers poison idea and the third and final gig I tried, Defeater and supports. I was already sobering up so I decided to get a pint of augistiner, not to get futher drunk but to prevent the collapse into tiredness that comes from a sober up. I entered the venue to find the perfect small stage and ground space a successful and intimate HC gig needs. Being at a gig alone is something I’d done only a week prior and I was definitely looking for a companion to share the experience. I searched around but no possible buddies were in the area so I decided to drain the old sea monster. Descending to the bottom of the stairs where the toilets were I noticed there was no signs just a D and a H. I thought H was for Herr (mr in german) but was unsure of the D. Knowing a wrong entrance could be embarrassing I froze in front of them both sidling toward H but then pulling back every time I looked like committing. The American merch guy saw me, laughed and told me he’d had the same problem. Good advice and a new buddy. I chatted with him for a bit at the stand and noticed the chick guitarist from Code Orange Kids was selling merch. I chatted with her awkwardly for a bit before buying a T-shirt. I’m not sure why I was nervous because I did not find her that attractive, more star struck by the small time band member. What the fuck is wrong with me. I left the stand and sat on the skirting of the wall where I met a dude from Austria. He was a rad dude and had never heard of COK, but I informed him they were awesome. We sat at the bar while the tidal sleep finished and he bought me a beer. A genuinely good guy who played in a few bands himself. We got good positions for COK and from the first notes (a chaos chord) you could tell these kids were not here to muck around. I thoroughly enjoyed them and Austria (can not pronounce his name) concurred. Following the COK’s performance of anarchy and female vocals, average band Former Theives came on, so we decided to grab that Beer I owed him. After this bev I was definitely loose and got myself prime posy for Defeater. They came on with a burst and knowing every word (also being in a country speaking deutsch helps) I got about 5 mic grabs in the first song. After doing some improv HC dancing and a few stage dives at opportune times. I saw the acoustic come out and got all teeny bopper in the front row. He played and extremely slow version of I don’t mind, which I sang to and then a rocky version of But Breathing. Finishing up they played Prophet in plain clothes, which is probably my all time favourite song, so I decided to jump on stage for my favourtie verse. The singer gave me the mic and I turned to the crowd and yelled “Homes never, Home”. My all time greatest gig moment. After the gig I said my fair wells to Austria and headed for the station as quickly as possible to meet up with Finch, Cocka and Joel at the clubs. Fuck I was sweaty.

Getting off the train, before meeting up with the others I decided to have a piss behind a lone tree. Being in agony to piss, I hurriedly jerked at my pants to get them open, resulting in the central button going flying into the bush. No biggy still the inside one.  50 metres down the track I could see cocka waving so I picked up the pace before noticing my pants heading south. The inside button had given way and I was outside some pretty suave (by my standard) looking clubs. I found a maccas straw and tied a make shift support to hold up the trousers. Sweaty as fritzl at a family reunion and a maccas straw holding up my duds, it was a safe bet I wasn’t picking up tonight. I ordered a Vegetarian kebab at the stand (which I copped a lot of shit for) and put my game face on to tackle the clubs. Haven’t been clubbing in a while but I watch Jersey Shore occasionally, so am pretty familiar with the fist pump among other patented guido moves. We got in there and ordered a hoard of drinks. Long island ice teas for 3 euro was a delight and it wasn’t too long before finch and I were slurring words into girls ears on the dancefloor. Joel had equipped me with a pick up line. Du bist sehr schoen (you are very beautiful), which was working a treat as a few took an interest in us. We chatted with them for a bit but they had to leave as the had uni in the morning. Confidence high and a some vodka redbulls under the belt we began dancing like absolute gumboots, which people began to enjoy. The sight of us doing this resulted in Trent running onto the dancefloor busting out the Will from the inbetweeners movie. Was a bad option watching that movie the day before. We kept dancing and I for once was actually enjoying a boogie, which isn’t always the case for me. I tried the old ‘Du bist sehr schoen’ on a pretty blonde girl in a blue and green dress, she laughed. We went and sat down at the back of the room and chatted. She in was indeed very beautiful, with the most amazing smile when she laughed. She told me she was driving and I instantly began to act sober. Was hard but I surprisingly wasn’t feeling intoxicated and spoke confidently, without really too many signs of prior drinking. I put my arm around her and she responded exactly as I had hoped. She told me she was a flight attendant and lived near the airport, and was interested in eventually coming to Australia. She said it would only cost her 100 euro and I forwardly invited her to stay in the hills with me. She laughed again. She put her name in my phone to add on facebook. Mara Blabla, sounds fake. The others left for the saint rippers, but I was well occupied and stayed. I asked her what she was doing the next night and whether she had time for a drink somewhere before I left for Paris, to the reply ‘I’m not sure my boyfriend will like that too much’. Shattered, a string of bad like, the button on my pants and then this gut-wrenching discovery. I continued chatting with her for the rest of the night at the back and I know it sounds gay, but I just enjoyed holding this beautiful girl. I thought about the goodnight kiss when we decided to leave at around 6.30 am, but I knew she wouldn’t and I respected that she was taken. We got out the front to find it completely light outside. As my eyes were adjusting to this rush of light to my brain, I saw a bloke in a blue t-shirt at the Kebab shop annoying the owner with drunkard speak. It was finch and apparently he had been waiting, badgering the greasy kebab man for an hour and a half. He was clearly angry at me, but I swear to this day he never said that he was going to wait. Finch, Mara, her friend and I were chatting, and I was wondering how the hell to get home. Mara offered us a trip to maccas and as I was in love with both Mara and the idea of a big mac, we headed for the car. Her friend called ‘shotgun’ to which finch retaliated ‘double shotgun’ and jumped straight into the front. Mara laughed but her friend did not. She called him a dick and then complained to me, to which I naturally replied. Sorry love, ‘I believe the man called double shotgun’. She instantly hated me. I made a crack about her unsuccessful attempts to fuck the DJ and her hatred for doubled. She was nothing but a stuck up bitch so I had not a care at all for giving her some dry Aussie flack in the backseat. Finched chirped to Mara all the way to maccas. When we got to maccas and realized it was closed Maras friend made us both get out for my words in the backseat and that was it. Me and finch were loose and getting home didn’t bother us at all. We took heaps of pictures of us with bums, riding a statue of a pig, listening to some junkies head phones and just causing a ruckus. We got home at 7.30 greeted Mr. Pennings having a regulation Friday breakfast and fell asleep as soon as our head hit the pillow. An Amazing night.

+ in the morning Kris looked at his phone, to see a message from Trent saying I’m shitting so much. He informed us it was sent from the Cubicle at the dingy German strippers. Another weird and wonderful bowel conversation

+ Me and O’dwyer looked up the name today. She is real and her boyfriend is a Policeman hunk. O’dwyer said that he had a better head on him. I undoubtedly agreed.