Picture Book Style

For the last few days I've been trying to figure out how to tell you the story of my first night out in Munich.  I was originally going to write a third person narrative, but realized that the story itself was not good enough to be told without my personal asides, tangents, and observations.  I began scribing a poem, but after a few lackluster stanzas decided to scrap it.  For a while I thought the story might not carry enough weight to merit a post, but then I remembered something:  I have pictures.  So here we go - a story with pictures of my first night out in Munich.

A few of the Boars met up at our center fielder's house, but before I could enter I became enthralled with the garage.   By all outward appearances it was a two car garage, but upon further inspection I found it capable of housing four distinct automobiles.  It was somewhat higher than a regular garage, but what made this car house so special was the automated car lift. Take a look for yourself:

This is Kacee excited by the awesome garage.

Before I move forward with the story I need you to know a few things.  First, when my teammates picked me up I was told to go back inside to change into pants.  Apparently the club we were going to wouldn't let me in without them, and although this sucks and I spent a good part of the night sweating, it is sometimes a necessary evil.  Second, I had business cards made up that say, "Ted Mosby Architect."  There is no other information on the cards.  This will make sense to few of you, but suffice it to say that it is an awesome joke from an awesome TV show.

After hanging out for a little while we headed off for the S-Bahn and our 25 minute ride into Munich, but before we got on the train we spotted a few ladies also waiting for the train.  I handed Kevin my camera, got out my business cards, and approached the ladies.  With the lens accuratetly focused, I made my move.  "Ted Mosby...*wink*...*finger point*...*click*...architect." They didn't get the joke but laughed nonetheless.  I got my picture.

"Ted Mosby.  Architect."

Alex and Kacee had stopped at the bank to get some Euros and wound up having to run to catch the train, but once they did and we settled in it was a rather easy, comfortable ride.  We had the back corner of the S-Bahn mostly to ourselves, and my four teammates wasted no time in finishing a fifth of Screwdrivers.  We had a nearby passenger take this photo.

Whoops.  Wrong photo.  That's Kevin proudly displaying his Screwdriver and Chris kissing Alex.  An odd sentence, I know, but true nonetheless.  These two are the weirdest straight kids I've ever met.  I've seen them spoon feed each other.  Seriously, it's the gayest thing ever...not that there's anything wrong with that.  But anyway, here's the picture of the five of us.

Kacee is staring at me like the psycho-killer I'm afraid he  may be.

After about 20 minutes on the train we were joined by a bachelorette party.  Now I've never been to one of these in the States, but I find it safe to assume that American brides-to-be do not go around town with dollar-store crap-filled cardboard boxes tied around their necks by lines of string.  So what did I do?   I gave her friend a business card, made her take a picture, and refused to buy anything.

She looks great!

A few minutes later we said goodbye to our new friends and got off the train.  Expecting to be in downtown Munich I was much surprised to find myself in what could only be called the sketchy outskirts of the city.  Upon exiting the station my boys decided it was time for a much needed toilet break.  Instead of a toilet, however, they chose a bridge.

No need for a caption here.

We took a tram from wherever we were to some even more remote corner of the city, at which point we realized no one really knew where we were going.  We had a name, Backstage, and we had a general part of town, but as to the exact location of the bar we were clueless.  Luckily we ran into some young ladies headed to the same club.

Me, Toni, Kacee, and Josephine...or something like that.

I've been to few clubs that meet expectations, and this was no exception.  Like any club, Backstage reeked of cigarette smoke.  People moved spastically to music pumped at deafening levels.  I left feeling hoarse and deaf, but I left having had a phenomenal time.  It's not the club, or the bar, or the movie you see that really makes or breaks a night.  It's the people you go with, and on Saturday my teammates became my friends.

Chris, Alex, Mattias, Kacee, Kevin, Me

Kevin was in charge of the late night roundup, and with the clock ticking dangerously close to 2:20, the time of the last train home, we found ourselves still wandering the streets of Munich's outskirts.  Kacee had long ago taken off his shoes.  Chris had decided he would go off by himself, and we were in danger of losing sight of Alex, who was falling more behind every second as he slowly made his way next to Josephine.  

After missing our train and getting a bite to eat, we decided it better to take a 20 Euro cab ride than wait another 2 hours for the next S-Bahn.  We got off the train, said our goodbyes, and went our seperate ways.  

I walked up the stairs at 4 am, tired in body, awake in mind, and deaf in both ears.