Part 1 – Trials and Inebriations
I had a buddy of mine take me to the airport. I made sure that we had time for lunch and a couple of pre-flight drinks. Even after having a nice lunch I still made it through security with plenty of time before my flight was to board. So I find myself at the airport with about an hour to kill before boarding a long international flight to join the world’s largest party with 13 great friends. Of course I head to a bar. I order my usual. “Small or large,” the bartender asks. Of course I choose the latter. “That’s a large?” He tells me it is the largest they have. I knock down three 32oz drinks before my flight is called.
I then face the challenge of the trip. I know I have an oversized roller bag but have gotten it on previous overseas flights so I know it fits in the overhead bin of a 757. By carrying on my bag it will save me at least 30 minutes at the Frankfurt airport. I was lucky enough to get upgraded so I mixed in with the early boarders. I carefully pulled my bag with my right hand while handing the airline chump my boarding pass with the left. At the same time I tried to “shield” his view of my bag as best as I could.
I hand him the boarding pass and start hauling my slightly inebriated cowboy hat wearing arse down the jet way. As I charge to the bend in the jet way to avoid further observation I hear, “Sir, excuse me sir!” So close. I was 6 steps from the bend. “Can you come back here we need to check your bag?” I trudge back to the carnie working the airline ticket booth and I actually get a little lucky. While I usually denigrate the travel retards that are increasingly overpopulating air travel I actually got to benefit from Corky trying to board the plane 4 groups ahead of his own. I lean over to the woman working line 2 of the check in and comment that I have successfully carried my bag onto previous flights with no problem. She leans over and takes a peak at Sergeant Schulz who is still trying to decipher Dan Brown’s “Corky Code.” She tells me to hurry up and get on the plane and if it doesn’t fit to come back so they can check it. I take off.
I get to the same place as I was previously when I hear Mr. Rulekeeper again trying to gain my attention. This time his ploy doesn’t work and I power through to make it around the bend. I hear my ticket taking friend speak up on my behalf. I get on the plane. I open the bin. I put bag into bin. Bag doesn’t fit exactly perfectly into bin. I try to make it fit. I hear fiberglass cracking. The cracking is loud. People look. I take bag out of bin and go to someone else’s bin. Put my bag into bin. No problem.
So I settle in for my 9 hour and 25 minute flight knowing that the flight attendants are going to be wearing a hole in the carpet between my seat and the beer cart. In fact I think that is what one of the flight attendants told me was the reason for cutting off alcohol service to me a couple of hours into the flight. At least that is how I remember it. So I eventually pop a melatonin to keep on my “schedule” to try and minimize jet lag upon my arrival in Germany. Next thing I know I wake up suddenly and realize that breakfast service is one aisle ahead of me. I get a weird look from Ms. Airplanebeerwench as she asks me if I want an omelet. Of course I do and proceed to inhale it.
Still a little tired, still a little inebriated (OK still pretty darn drunk) and a bit hung over I try to get everything squared away in my business class space. As I try to put my shoes back on I hear something rattling beneath my feet. I look down and see beer cans. One, two, three..WTF? Then I look at the little shelves and nooks around my seat. I find at least 5 more beer cans. I immediately think about the letter I am going to send to American Airlines. It will be about how appalled I am that their sky hostesses allowed me to fly all night in squalor. Aren’t they there to serve drinks and clean up? Why is cleaning up the hardest part for everyone to accomplish?
Then I remember The Game. Ahhhhhh, The Game. I have played it many times and have had a high percentage of success! The Game begins once I am told by a sky waitress that she is afraid of wearing out the carpet between me and the beer cart. The Game includes making sure that sky sloot number 1 doesn’t see me get drinks from sky sloots number 2, number 3 and number 4. And sky sloot number 2 doesn’t see me get drinks from sky sloots number 3 and 4 and so on. It can be a very difficult task to pull off successfully because after a few drinks, like 14, it is hard to keep track of everyone that you have talked with and who is on which list to approach for more drinks and actually recall the last conversation(s) you might have had with each of them. But that probably isn’t even the hardest part of The Game. The real challenge is disposing of the evidence especially as it continues to pile up. The biggest obstacle is that the wenches tend to hover around the kitchen area after dinner service so disposing of the wreckage is tough. The next best option is to “hide” it in and around your space. The problem is that you are hammered and what might appear to you as sly and clever hiding technique or location is usually obvious and blatant. Hence the multiple beer cans that are multiplying in my seat area like Central American villagers. Now to determine the winner of The Game. If I can make it off the plane without a waitress saying something to me or getting tackled by a sky marshal or picked up by the local authorities I win. I pull my giant carry-on bag down the aisle hitting every single seat and arm rest on my way off the plane. I don’t want to hit the seats with my bag but for some reason my balance is a little off. I hit the jet way then practically sprint for the airport terminal. I wind my way through customs and out of the secure airport area. Then (and I actually do this) I raise my arms in victory! I win The Game!
So I stop by an ATM to pick up some Yoks (Euros) and then visit a kiosk for a few items to consume on the train to Munich. I choose a train that allows me to go directly to Munich without needing to transfer. Perfect. I locate an unreserved seat in a pack of 4 seats that has a common table for passenger use. I take out my iPod and my picnic of kiosk goodies. After a bit I notice a few long looks in my direction. No doubt that some people figure I am a foreigner and probably an American. After all the train originated from the Frankfurt airport and many people on the train have been traveling to and from many countries. Then after a while longer I think that surely it must be the cowboy hat. Not something really seen to frequently in Germany. At least during the dozen or so times I have been there. Then I figure it might even be my goodies. Somehow I didn’t find it offensive to be eating a danish, a frankfurter with extra mustard, a Milka candy bar, a little basket of blueberries, a 5 hour energy drink and an assorted collection of 5 German biers but I could see why other people would think it is an odd meal at 08:00.
After a nice ride to Munich I walk down the platform and raise my arms once again in victory. Two years of planning and anticipation is complete. I am in one of my favorite places in the world, the Munchen Hauptbahnhof. It is special to me because I have started so many amazing life changing trips from there and know that this is just the beginning of a new adventure!