“Think? No, I know I can. I’ve seen you drink. You dove in too deep too fast on this one. You’re one Heineken away from drooling on Ben’s shoulder and waking up confused by life, mumbling ‘Where are we?’”
“Fuck you! No. That’s not how this is happening. I’m staying awake with you the whole way, then I’m getting drunk and finding myself a hot-ass German guy to make out with.”
I snort a laugh.
“What? What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing.” I shrug. “Just be careful what you wish for.”
“What are you talking about? Have you seen these guys? A lot of them are gorgeous.”
“No, I agree. A lot of them are. They also wear man-capris without shame.”
She scrunches her nose. “Ugh.”
“And they don’t wear deodorant.”
“Ugh!”
“And they bathe once a week.”
“You’re killing me.”
“I’m just being honest.”
“At least most of them speak English. My German is terrible.”
I eye the woman and two men sitting across from us. “Yeah, they all speak a little English. Even the ones who pretend they don’t.”
The woman raises an eyebrow at me.
I knew it!
The door to the compartment bursts open again and Ben stands there looking bedraggled. His shirt is blotted with either water, sweat, or something completely undesirable, and his eyes are mournful.
“The toilets are flooding,” he hiccups pathetically.
I hitch my thumb at Mel. “It’s funnier when she says it.”
***
“Where are we?” Mel mumbles, raising her head from Ben’s shoulder and swiping a hand across her mouth.
Right on time, I think to myself, loving it when I’m right.
“Munich,” I tell her, then I grab her arm and shake her roughly. “Oktoberfest in Munich!”
She sits up immediately, all memory of sleep gone. She turns to shake Ben but comes face to face with him already wide awake and looking at her.
“Sleep well?” he asks, grinning like a cat.
I look away and start rifling through my purse, but I know Mel is blushing. She’s had a thing for Ben since we met him at the start of this semester abroad. We’re all living, breathing, and slacking on our studies in the same building and I know it’s driving her crazy. He’s a good-looking guy when he’s not covered in questionable fluids, but he has severely questionable motives and intentions. She’s headed for heartache with that one, but good luck telling her that.
We disembark the train in a mad, stumbling rush of bodies and excitement that floods into Munich’s train station. We’re instantly surrounded by a mix of all kinds of nationalities. I hear Italian, Japanese, French, and, of course, American and British accents. I don’t even know where we’re supposed to go, but I link arms with Ben while Mel does the same on his other side and we follow the flow of the crowd out into the streets. I’m sure someone in this herd knows where they’re going.
“Are you feeling any better?” I ask Ben as we sidestep a couple making out in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Getting there,” he mutters, his eyes downcast.
I worry for a moment, thinking he’s still really sick. I actually have some sympathy for him. Then I see what he’s looking at. The girl walking just ahead of us is wearing fishnets—honest to God fishnet stockings—in neon green. They disappear up her legs under a short skirt made of black tulle. She looks like a hooker ballerina.
“You’re gross,” I mutter quietly.
“What’s that? I can’t hear you over the sound of the crowd.”
“You can’t hear me over the color of those fishnets.”
Mel leans forward to look at me across Ben’s chest. “What are you guys talking about?”
“The difference in the speed of light and sound,” I tell her.
“Seriously? Why? Wait, is there a difference?”
I shrug. “I’m a business major.”
Mel frowns. “I don’t get it.”
“That’s because there’s nothing to get. She’s drunk,” Ben interrupts, squeezing my arm against his side pointedly.
I take my cue to shut up.
Not surprisingly, the herd makes it to Oktoberfest where it joins the massively bigger herd of people milling around the grounds. This thing is huge, the largest fair in the world, and I feel a little claustrophobic being in this crowd. I know I’ll get used to it, especially after we visit the beer tents, but for now it’s kind of freaking me out.
“Where to first?” Mel shouts above the din of music, people, and carnival sounds. I can see rides rising up in the distance at the end of the midway that’s made up entirely of food and drink stalls. Running parallel down the center is a string of booths selling crafts and souvenirs. This is only one section of the fair and we could spend hours walking through it just looking. But I didn’t come here to look; I came here to drink, eat, and be stupid, so I quickly point to the tall peak of one of the largest beer tents.
“There!” I shout. I swing around and point to the peak of another tent across from the first. “Then we go there. And there. Then there.”
“Okay, okay,” Ben stops me, nodding wearily. “We make the rounds. Got it. Let’s do this.”