Friday, September 12, 2008

Vegas Part Two: Germany

One of the best things about Vegas is that it’s not Vegas. It’s not some shit hole little town in the middle of the fuckin’ desert, no, it’s New York City, it’s Egypt, it’s Paris, it’s Italy, it’s ancient Greece—you can go anywhere in the world in Las Vegas. And now GERMANY!

We’ve been meaning to visit Tania’s homeland for years, but, alas, the grand tour we’ve envisioned is just out of our grasp every year. So we decided to settle for the next best thing: the Hofbrau House in Las Vegas.

“In a city built on fantasy, Hofbräuhaus Las Vegas is different. It’s the only faithful reproduction of the original Hofbräuhaus München in the world.”

We’ve also been trying to visit the Hofbrau House for the last few years, but it’s off the strip over by the Hard Rock, so it’s not all that convenient to get to. This time we decided to make it our first stop. On Friday night, we checked into our hotel, changed our clothes, and took a cab to Germany.

Play some Slayer you pussies.

The place is pretty awesome (not Team Awesome awesome, but awesome awesome). After a short wait in the foyer at the bar, we were ushered into a big hall, with high ceilings, filled with tables and benches. And it’s loud as shit in there. Partly because at one end there’s a stage where Oompa bands—imported directly from the homeland—play nightly. Our band was called Didi’s Hörmittel. Besides the usual German beer hall favorites, they played some weird shit like “Sweet Caroline” and “Who The Fuck is Alice?” The latter was enjoyed immensely by our elderly table mates who enthusiastically sang along. Old people, I gathered, love yelling “WHO THE FUCK IS ALICE?” It made me wonder what the place must be like for someone who didn’t know what they were getting into. Like Yoda, who was sitting behind us.

Yeah, fuckin’ Yoda was there. Right behind us.

Hmph. Beer? Heh. German food? Heh. Oompa music? Heh. A Jedi craves not these things.

I had read on the website’s list of events that there was going to be a “stein contest.” No explanation. What the fuck is a stein contest? We learned right when we sat down. The object is to hold a full stein of beer at arm’s length longer than anyone else. I think it was more fun to watch than to play. The record, apparently, is 24 minutes. At our contest a little Mexican dude beat out an Australian in just over four minutes. I lasted four seconds. (Insert your sex joke here).

The Aussie, on the far right, looks a lot like NHL drunky Theo Fleury.

We wanted everything on the menu, but played it safe and got our usual standbys: Tania ordered a schnitzel and I got Münchner Weisswürste—“Two of Munich’s famous white sausages (veal and pork). From the Bavarian Sausage Heaven!” The waitress asked if I wanted them grilled or poached. “Which way do you prefer it?” I asked. “It’s more traditional poached,” she said. I’m glad I went for the poached, otherwise I never would have received this silly bowl of wet dicks. There’s nothing really to say about the food except that it’s just simple, good, standard German fare. Same with the beer. It’s good, but nothing exciting, except for the fact that it comes in a huge stein. The more beer you have, the better it tastes. Just compare the first sip out of your stein to your last, and I’m sure you’ll agree with me: more beer tastes better.

Tania's titzel—I mean, schnitzel.

Eat a bowl of dick, bitch.

After we finished eating, and “Who the Fuck Is Alice?” was finally over, we spent a good portion of our evening watching the semi-retarded, yet totally drunk trio behind us. It was two guys and one girl. The girl was the most peculiar of the group because she really did look like she was semi retarded. She was definitely wearing tard fashion. Most notable were her white nurse shoes and white tube socks. Which matched her ghostly white legs perfectly. Which she shared freely with her two male companions who were completely wasted, but in different drunk zones. One dude remained slouched over and grinning on his bench, while the other one couldn’t sit still and danced and stumbled and stumble danced his way all around the hall. He tried his best, but no one wanted to be his new friend. Although he was able to hang on to a waitress for a good while. He liked her. And I think he got to second base?


After some more beer and more music, another contest was announced: women’s beer pounding! A dozen or so ladies got up on stage and were handed a stein of beer that was about a third full. Probably a can and a half? The hype man, MC Johann, announced that the first one done wins. Tania and I both picked this great hulk of a woman on the end to take it. And when she told MC Johann that she was actually from Germany, it was obvious she was going to win. I’m not very good at gambling, but I wanted to bet on her. Sure enough, her beer was gone in four seconds.

MC Johann laid on our table and played "Yellow Submarine."

MC Johann's angle. Tania thinks there's a subliminal swastika in the ceiling art.

MC Johann then took center stage and busted out his horn. It was a really big horn. He got the tard girl to hold it between her legs while he played her a song. She giggled. Then he laid on our table and balanced the thing on his lips. It almost touched the ceiling. He played the Beatles “Yellow Submarine” and encouraged us to sing along. Apparently I’m not the only one who doesn’t know the words to that song. Everyone kind of mumbled some gibberish in an English accent until he came to the part where you get to go, “We all live in a yellow submarine!” Then the Hofbrau House went off. WHO THE FUCK IS ALICE?

Thomas Keller’s Bouchon restaurant is a must for us every trip to Vegas, but I think the Hofbrau House has joined the “must visit” list. Ziggy socky! Ziggy socky! Oi! Oi! Oi!


pjc said...

dave, sack up. i've been there and i've been to the real hofbauhaus in munich on three separate visits. and i've been to the oktoberfest twice. and i'm not nearly as well traveled as you. i can't believe you haven't been to oktoberfest. it's better than you can imagine. tents of 10,000 drunks singing together, laughing together, and hating the fucking italians. seriously, dave, c'mon. leave vegas. don't succumb to its siren song, or else move to palmdale and finish yourself off.

Not The New Stereo Video said...

the only time I went to vegas, they had some kind of French restaurant in a casino, where they painted French dishes names on the facade, and EVERY SINGLE ONE had a typo in it. Like, "Charcroute" instead of "choucroute", the highlight being "Bouilabaise, instead of "Bouillabaisse". You might say, it's only a missing "s", right, but it becomes funny when you realize that "baise", with one "s", means "fuck". So no, I didn't order a "Bouillafuck", and got scared by the gourmat place with typos. My aversion for vegas started this very day. French snob, you know.

Bozo Monkey Bear III said...

germany is on the top of our list. and yes pjc, you're right, it's a little odd i've never been. downright stupid, really. anyway, this post has generated a lot of comments. i just got an email from dale crover of the melvins who just so happens to be in germany:

HA! I'm in Germany right now and I shit you not, we are playing in an anti aircraft bunker!!! I woke up and stepped off the bus and knew immediately what it was. Not sure why it's still standing, since the rest of Hamburg was pretty much bombed flat. For some reason there are a lot of rock clubs in Germany that were former slaughter houses. We've played quite a few of them before. I don't think I'll be seeing any schnitzel tonight. Maybe in Munchen. I had a great dining experience there a few years ago where we ate reindeer! The real schnitzel is in Austria though. I ate the biggest schnitzel I've ever seen in a castle near Hitler's home. I hope you make it to the mullet capitol of the world someday.
See you in October,

Unknown said...

for the record, my family is in germany (i'm first generation on my dad's side) and i've been there more times than i can count. and yes, i've been to oktoberfest in munich... and i still think vegas is tits. GET OVER IT.