I realized that the rule bothers me more than I thought it would. In Leipzig a beer has to be enjoyed outside in the sunshine, or even better, at sunset. This has grave implications for life in Athens: No beer by the river or on one of the countless rich meadows on campus. No walking around with beer. And no smoking and drinking in front of a bar! Can you believe it? Leave your beer inside to have a smoke outside because you cannot smoke inside. But that's a different story. Anyways, when you come back, the beer is almost stale. Terrible, so unfair! That's at least what The Donald would say. But in opposite to The Donald I try not to be in a snit all day and blame the guys I should work with for my own mistakes.
So I go out to discover this American college party culture that has been glorified by pop culture over and over again. Everybody knows it: red cups and beerpong, binge drinking and promiscuity. And what better possibility is there to catch that vibe than fest season in Athens? From mid-March to the summer, street fests take place every weekend around town. Thousands of students from all across the city and beyond on one street. But here's the thing. The party starts at ten. In the morning of course. People actually set an alarm to meet for pregaming - the American version of Vortrinken - at eight thirty or nine, to be on time when the real party starts. The last time I set an alarm to drink in the morning I was sixteen and on vacation in Denmark. I guess you could describe that as a booze-cruise. As a consequence of the early start, people are already pretty wasted by the early afternoon. Or shitfaced, as the American college students would say.
The parties are mostly in backyards, or on front porches. Loud music: Future, Steve Aoki, Nicki Minaj, Drake - you name it. Hotpants and tank tops. And the police is everywhere. Athens City Police, Athens County Sheriff's Office, Ohio University Police, State Troopers, and State Police on horses. I usually see those only when patriotic Europeans march through German citites on Mondays. But here, the usual suspect is someone different, as you can imagine. Chances are high that you even get to enjoy the privilege of spending a night in the drunk tank. Anyways, lots of beer around, mostly PBR, Miller Lite and the like. We don't need to talk about that kind of stuff here, and I haven't met someone here yet who actually spoke in favor of it. To be fair, however, I need to mention that America does have good beer indeed! Not at the fests though. But, old rule: the more you have, the better it gets. And it is actually fun. I share good laughs with nice people from the GLC and elsewhere, and can finally enjoy a beer and a cigarette at the same time. Moments of levity! This can't last forever though, order must be reinstalled! So at four in the afternoon, the fest is shut down and the cavalry clears the street. Now, the ones that still didn't have enough take a quick nap and head over to the bars on Court Street. Of course, you need to be well rested before the drinking starts again.
After the madness is over, I sit on the front porch of a friend with the last beer of the day in my hands. Only a few people around. Suddenly, a blue Dodge Charger pulls over at the neighbor's house. Four plainclothes officers jump out, yell all over the place and brandish their badges as if they were to pick a wanted mobster up off the street. But, you probably already guessed it, it's just some guy who, in an unobserved moment, ventured on the sidewalk with a drink in his hand. The perpetrator is fined and the squad chases away in its shiny cruiser. Somehow I pity him, but hey, still a creative way to bump up your city budget.
PS: Yes, I did take pictures, but for a variety of reasons they will not be presented on this blog.
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