Mundane Doesn't Describe It

For the slackatudinally challenged.

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I have never taken any exercise except sleeping and resting. Mark Twain, Hard work doesn't harm anyone, but I do not want to take any chances. - Unknown, I am retired and have tried to do as little as possible - slowly. Me.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Drinking Contest

As I said yesterday, every February the family I rented from in Germany and I would go on a vacation up in the mountain past Heidelberg. They would invite all their family and friend up to a small town for the week. Of about 35 people I was the only naturally English speaking person and only American there. I knew enough to get by, but everyone there was always kind enough to translate if I got lost, and I was lost a lot.

The little town we stayed in was very small, maybe 10 or 12 buildings. There were 4 Gausthauses (combo restaurant, bar and motel) in town and we were all spread out at them. We all met at one Gausthaus to eat and party at because it had the largest area.

I remember or sort of don’t remember one night I was sitting at a table with everybody and they start ordering shots of something called Kuemmerling.




I found out we were playing a game where you put the bottles side by side and because of the shape after enough bottles where together a circle was formed. So that night everyone at the table would go buy rounds of Kuemmerling. We drank and drank and drank, but even as tipsy as I was getting I could see we weren’t getting a circle made. I don’t know how it became an international drinking contest, but by the end of the night my friends were kidding me about how Americans couldn’t hold their alcohol.

By the end of the night I had a lot more that I should have and it appeared everybody at the table was holding up pretty good except for me. So I tell everybody it’s time I go and lie down and start to leave. The Gausthaus owner and a friend there wouldn’t hear of me walking the 50 yards to where I was staying. The Gausthaus owner goes and gets his car and he, my friend and I drive 50 yards straight down the street to where I was staying. They get me up to my room and I go to sleep.

The next morning I wake up and I knew I had died, because no one can feel that bad and not be dead. I stumble through getting myself ready for the day and I knew I had to have one thing – coffee. I’m ready and walk the 50 yards down to the Gausthaus. I walk in and sit at a table and the owner comes out and he’s amazed I’m awake and asking for anything. The owner brings me coffee and I ask him how the others at the table made out after the drinkfest. He starts laughing and said they all had only about 3 or 4 Kuemmerlings together. When I asked what he meant, he said after the first 3 or 4 they would bring bottles back and tell him to fill theirs with water and for me to have the real thing. It finally dawned on me why we didn’t make a complete circle of bottles. However, the owner did tell me that I had drunk the most Kuemmerling of any person he had ever seen.

After the second pot of coffee the others started coming in for breakfast. They would come over and slap me on the back and laugh tell me how great I did the night before. The laughter and slapping on the back were the last things I needed. My head felt like it was inside a giant bell being rung. The day progressed and I start feeling better and we all end up at the same table that night. Someone mentions Kuemmerling and I just shake my head no. I stuck with bottled water for the rest of the vacation.

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