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Rosenmontag has passed, and thank goodness for that! Through some of the tweets, instagram, and saved photos, here is my personal experience with this year’s holiday in our town.
My friend Bettina and I decided to go with afro wigs because it was easy. I grabbed my wig (a freebie from a Madagascar sequel), slapped eye shadow on my cheeks and lipstick on my nose, and we headed out. We’d missed the Fasching ladies’ night out, so it was a girls’ night out for us.
On our way into town, we passed a row of guys peeing through a bridge above a creek. German men pee anywhere and everywhere. It wasn’t the last set of guys peeing that we saw. To be honest, given the nice row these guys had made, I wish I’d snuck a picture.
We eventually settled on a gathering in between buildings. There were costumes, dancing, and drinking—all at once, of course. We began consuming Jack & Cokes as we people-watched. Soon, a man entered the room. He was covered head to toe in a suit made to look like it came from a disco ball. He had some moves. Suddenly I noticed an actual little disco ball hanging in front of his crotch. My first tweet from town:
Is it ok to ask a guy to lemme take a pic w the #discoball hanging on his crotch?
She wouldn’t, would she? Keep reading…
We be-bopped along to the music from our corner. How you know you’re out with someone younger than you:
“I had this song on a 45.” “What’s a 45?” #imOld #thismusicissoloud #Karneval2015
*Sigh* And the music was for sure too loud. In fact, we started to head down into a cellar on the town square, but turned around before making it down the stairs. I’m really too old for this shit. And yet I’m not, in comparison to the crowd. Ages ranged from 10 (seriously) to about 70 (seriously). I was surprised to see a young thug with his pants hanging down past his butt, dancing the campy dance of Karneval: hands waving in the air and a bit of a strut.
Soon we grabbed some food to go with our Jack and Cokes. I chose a soft pretzel (my first of three, to which I attribute my lack of hangover–as well as the calories on my Lose It app skyrocketing). Yum. Soon it was time for the ladies room. The line wasn’t as long as expected, but this happened:
Just watched an old couple come out of men’s room stall together #Rosenmontag #karneval2015
We headed back to the parking lot party, where we had enjoyed the people-watching. It was much more crowded than before. I was disappointed to find that Disco Balls was gone. When I expressed this disappointment, Bettina asked if I was seriously going to approach him and ask for the picture. How she knew I was serious:
Me: How do you say ‘balls’ in German?
Bettina: Eier, like Eggs.
Me: Oh, good, like huevos in Spanish. That’ll be easy to remember.
Hard to live tweet with perpetual drinks in your hand #Karneval2015 #februaryingermanyaintbad
After spending a bit of time at that party, we headed back out to the street. On our way out, a German naughty version of “Ring of Fire” began to play. Because Karneval.
We circled town yet again. This time I decided that no Karneval would be complete without heading into the booze trailer in front of the church, to get ourselves some more Jack & Coke. (And get hit on by a much older man. Ew.)
We didn’t stay long. Back out on the town. Suddenly Bettina said, “Look, there’s Disco Ball!” He had just walked past. There was no way I was missing out again. I turned around and ran, Jack & Coke spilling out of my little cup, until catching up with him. He looked scared of me.
“Excuse me, could I take a picture of your disco ball?”
“Sure,” he replied, holding up his baton with a disco ball at the end of it.
“No–the other one.”
We then posed together, followed by a photo I probably shouldn’t show you, but what the hell, I have no shame.
“It is tradition that you give me a sip of your drink after taking a photo.”
That seemed like a fair exchange. “Okay.”
Bettina and I are wusses, so we began heading home so we could sleep; we popped into a bar here and there just to check out the atmosphere. Bettina reminded me that she’d have to wake up with a little one, early in the morning.
Me: Don’t text me.
The good news?
Didn’t pee my pants on the way home! #win #photofinish #Karneval2015
The mediocre news:
Home now (I’m old). In coat I find half of my third pretzel, an empty plastic cup, and much less € than I left with #Karneval2015 #fasching
When was the last time I was up til midnight? #gonnabehurtintomorrow
I attempted to get all of my makeup off, but the lipstick nose was stubborn.
Removing makeup. I wish the silver hair streaks were part of costume #ImOld #Karneval2015
This morning, I again scrubbed my nose to no avail.
This morning, Paul asked if I could please deal with the bathroom, while wondering aloud why I needed to take everything off in there.
Me: I had to pee
Paul: I know you don’t need to strip to pee. I’ve peed before.
Me: Karneval.
