Beer, Brauts, and Falafels???

Octoberfest in Southern California is like showing up to a movie a half hour early. There is no one around and you start to worry if this is the right movie or not.

In order to secure some fun in our lives. I decided to take the wife and go to an Octoberfest. It was great except for the fact that no one was there. On the website they marketed a great musical act on one of the main stages. The Dirty Dozen Brass Band would be playing a Hurricane Katrina benefit. This would be awesome, I thought.

Amongst all the umpa bands, sauerkraut, and veinerswitzle there stood an empty beer tent submerged in noise from an 80's cover band. I decided to partake in the local habits of Octoberfest and try a few of the German beers. Who knows, maybe by the time the Dirty Dozen takes the stage I will by cussin' and punching everyone in sight dressed in full leiderhozen. We walked around soaked up the dead atmosphere of falafels, burritos, and hot caramel apples outside the beer tent. On one side of the festival there was a reggae soul country band playing, at another tent there was a teenage battle of bands (nothing but guitars screeching and someone screaming into a microphone), on the third stage stood the Bavarian German Beer Band playing the "Chicken Dance" to a capacity crowd of 30 in a tent to hold a thousand, and last but not least in the main tent was the Miss Octoberfest contest.

We made our way over to the main stage to get a view of the Dirty Dozen feeling that it could get packed. The building that harnessed the main stage was huge almost the size of a football field. The accoustics were horrendous. My wife feeling the urge after her second hefiezen decided to make her way to the facilities. I being the good gentleman that I am went to the bar to reload, and wait for her outside the facilities. As I stood there gazing into the empty abyss that was the main stage, I wondered where could everyone be. There was another poor sap boyfriend, husband, date for a night waiting for his lady to come out the john. Suddenly I was taken aback when 10 girls in g-string bikinis come walking out of the restroom with two beer steins each filled to the brim with water. The tried there best to walk up to the stage in high heels with these huge beer steins. The guy next to me stares at them, then glances over to me and says, "Lord almighty, I want to be Mr. Octoberfest!"

After a while my wife comes out of the john, and I proceed to tell her about what had just transpired. I tell her we have to get front row and center to see this contest. We position ourselves a row back from the front of the crowd right before the contest begins. Now the girls have to hold the steins out in front of them as long as they can. Every one of these girls are slim built, except for one. This girl had to be 6 foot 2 and about 125 pounds. She looked like a Norse woman. I screamed out right before the whistle blew, "My money is on Zena, don't let me down Warrior Princess." She didn't. Not only did she destroy the competition, but when the last girl's arms dropped from the heavy weight, she took the steins and poured the water over her body. Nice touch for the judges. After that everyone left. I think there was something like 20 of us standing there waiting for the Dirty Dozen Brass Band to come out. When the took the stage it was surreal. I felt like I was at a Saints game in the 4th Quarter towards the end of a season. We stayed for the entire set. It was good to hear some good old New Orleans music for one night. As we drove home I looked back at my wife, and remarked to her that the Duetchouse would have been better. She smiled and agreed. Although nothing beats the memory of a good time.