Monday, September 21, 2015

Good morning crew,

Is it Monday already? It doesn't feel like it to me. It feels more like a Sunday...probably because my Sunday was a little bit fuzzy. I spent most of it recovering from Oktoberfest on Saturday.

That was a long night.

The fest turned out to be smaller than I expected. It was held in a big park in Glendale Heights, but really was confined to one big tent in the parking lot. The capacity was probably no more than a couple thousand people.

But what they lacked in volume they made up in quality. The whole thing was catered by an authentic, local German restaurant and they put out quite a spread.

Everything was hand-made, from the Wienerschnitzel to the kartoffelsalat. Unfortunately, I didn't get to try everything, more's the pity, because what I did try was delicious (okay, the Fried Saurkraut Balls were not my thing). No, I was much too tempted by the dark, foamy Hofbrau Octoberfest Bier.

But I managed to pace myself pretty well. When the beer is good it is a temptation to plow through the first 2 or 3 pretty fast, but German beer is about twice the percentage of most American beers, so you have got to be careful with it.

Of course, my discretion was partially facilitated by the rather outrageous price they were charging for the stuff! The fest was organized so that you had to buy tickets for food and drinks when you walk into the place. I guess this is easier for accounting purposes, plus it makes it harder to skim the till.

So when the wife and I walked in with my brother Nino and his wife Marianne, we bought about $90's worth of tickets. Nino bought $60 and I bought $30. But at $5 (or 5 tickets) for a salty pretzel, 8 tickets for a schnitzel sandwich, and a scandalous 7 tickets for 12 ounces of Hofbrau, we exhausted our tickets in the first half hour.

But if there is anything that loosens up the old purse strings it's beer (a lesson I have learned time and again after buying kilts, antique fire extinguishers and other paraphernalia at various faires and fests).

With the band playing 'Ein Prosit' every ten minutes (whereupon patrons have to stand on the tables and drink a toast to their fellow fest-goers) we were soon well lubricated enough to start buying alpine hats, commemorative beer steins and specialty shots being served by dirndl-clad frauleins who were wandering around with trays full of apple schnapps and a surprisingly delicious liqueur made from figs, of all things.

By the time old Mason showed up with his wife Kelly, Nino and I had each made additional trips to the ticket booth and we were all starting to reach our capacity and slow down. That is why I was a little distressed to see that Mason had a bundle of about 200 food and drink tickets clenched in his fist.

I knew he was never going to use all of those tickets, and they can't be returned. Even after buying dinner and drinks for himself and his wife, as well as a couple rounds for the entire table, and a commemorative beer stein, he still had about a half inch thick stack of tickets left.

By that time it was getting late and Mason was starting to get a little frantic. So at about 10:30 at night I found myself in the unusual position of standing outside of the beer tent and scalping drink tickets (while wearing a felt alpine hat).

Fortunately, there was still a decent stream of people heading into the fest, so by walking down the line and offering, "12 for 10! Drink tickets, 12 for 10!" I was able to unload about $30 bucks worth.

When Mason caught up with me and heard my can't miss sales pitch he got a little upset.

"Hey! That's MY money you're giving away," he pointed out to me.

I did a quick calculation of the tickets left in my hand and told him, "Well, the fest closes in about an hour. You better get back in there, you have about 5 more beers to drink."

Suffice it to say that by changing the offer to 15 for 10 we were able to dispose of the remaining tickets in short order and get out of there before somebody called the police.

Laugh it up,

Joe

joe@gophercentral.com

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"Year, (noun) A period of three hundred and sixty-five disappointments." --Ambrose Bierce's DEVIL'S DICTIONARY

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"Few things are harder to put up with than the annoyance of a good example." --Mark Twain

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"I'm sick of following my dreams. I'm just going to ask them where they're going and hook up with them later." -Mitch Hedberg

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The boss joined a group of his workers in the company break room and told a joke he'd heard recently. Everybody laughed loudly. Everybody, that is, except Dewey.

When he noticed that he was getting no reaction from Dewey, the boss said, "What's the matter, Dewey? No sense of humor?"

"My sense of humor is fine," he said. "But I don't have to laugh. I'm quitting tomorrow."


*-------------- Guaranteed to Roll Your Eyes --------------*
My family physician told me of an incident that actually happened to him back in the early days of his practice.

He said a woman brought her baby to see him, and he determined right away that the baby had an earache. He wrote a prescription for ear drops. In the directions he wrote, "Put two drops in right ear every four hours" and he abbreviated "right" as an R with a circle around it.

Several days passed, and the woman returned with her baby, complaining that the baby still had an earache, and his little behind was getting really greasy with all those drops of oil.

The doctor looked at the bottle of ear drops and sure enough, the pharmacist had typed the following instructions on the label:

"Put two drops in R ear every four hours."