Epic Tragedy

Dear Reader,

Amidst various other things that have been going on lately, I have still been taking time to enjoy good beer in good company, especially as things draw so close to the end. Each sip is homage to a semester of memories marinated in German beer just as tender horse fillets are brined in Rheinische Sauerbraten.

Many of you may remember the schenanigans of my birthday, where a group of my amigos and I purchased a keg of fine brew from our favorite restaurant, Bönnsch, to commemorate the occasion. The opening of the vessel was a flop, considering there was no adequate blunt instrument to batter the tap in, and my improvisation of smashing into a burm resulted in me taking a malt beverage shower.

Well, I always like adventure to come full circle, so a number of us set out last thursday to retrieve once again such a keg from Brauhaus Bönnsch. This time I was thinking ahead, and I, uh, organised a mallet from the Chemistry Department tool drawer in order to properly prepare the festivities of the evening. After having haulled ten liters of liquid satisfaction across a city of 300,000 and receiving numerous invitations to leave my keg behind for the good of another party, we arrived at the safe haven of Am Wichelshof, a student dorm occupied by a friend of mine. The keg was placed on the table, the tap in place, and my whole body was trembling in nervous anticipation as I prepared to deliver a fatefull blow. I finally worked up the courage and *thud* the tap was driven into the socket. A sigh of relief, well-earned, was sighed, and I righted the keg and prepared to unleash the first white plastic cup of foam covered glory.

BUT LO!!!! I turned the knob on the tap, and nothing came out but a lazy stream of clear fluid. Not beer. Not honey-colored, fermented tastiness of the gods. But water. I had purchased a keg that was filled with water.

Nothing good be done...it was too late to walk back with the keg and get a new, so we just ran to a story and got back-up beverage. The next day, however, I was destined to get my money back. I marched into Bönnsch keg in arm and planted it firmly on the counter. The man who sold me the keg was there, and he asked me if it was good. "Try for yourself," I told him (auf Deutsch, natürlich), which he did, filling up a beer mug with foul, non-beer dihydrogen monoxide. He laughed. Hard. And brought other people to show them. He was still laughing when he returned all my money to me. His humor diffused my wrath, fortunately for him, and out of revenge I spent 15 euro at the restaurant drinking beer and eating pretzels....

Revenge is sweet.

Back to the States on Thursday...keep your eyes peeled!

Peace,

Jon