Oktoberfest in Dallas

Before sending me on my way to Austin and eventually Europe, my friend Brian showed me Dallas’s version of a European celebration. Every major city in the U.S. has one of these: Oktoberfest.

“Before you see the real thing, we’ve gotta show you the bastardized American version,” Brian joked.

He, Paul and I climbed into Brian’s Subaru Forrester – the Lezmobile, as he calls it – and headed to Addison, or what Brian refers to as the Bellevue of Dallas. It’s the suburb that all the young, semi-wealthy business school graduates move into to try and keep up with the Joneses, according to Paul and Brian. It’s also the place where pseudo-Germans set up a pavilion every September and pedal overpriced beer, so-so bratwurst and funny hats. I still regret not buying one of those hats shaped like a chicken. But I’ll probably come to my senses and get over it eventually.

After I downed my first stein of Spaten, it occurred to me that my adventures earlier that afternoon were more harmful than I’d first suspected. I’d spent half the day walking around downtown Dallas, mainly exploring Dealey Plaza and everything having to do with the JFK assassination. (The audio tour in the Sixth Floor Museum, set up where Oswald was perched, is well worth listening to. It takes a while to get through, but it’s fascinating and gives you some interesting food for thought regarding the grassy knoll.) I’d planned to be indoors more than out, but when I got lost looking for my bus to Brian’s place, my plans changed. Without  a hat or sunscreen, my shaved head began to simmer. I didn’t notice an effect until after that first beer.



View from the grassy knoll.



The Spaten was affecting me more than it should have, and I was getting thirsty. My head began to ache. I needed to rehydrate or my stomach would revolt. I soldiered on through another stein or two, passing the time with Brian and some of his cute ladyfriends.

The ride home was impossibly long. All three of us could feel our bladders expanding and preparing to pop with every bump in the road. I sipped a warm Coke I’d left in the car, just to get some hydration. I’d barely had any water that day, despite the heat and sunburn, and those factors combined with the beer were quickly catching up to me.

If I’d been less experienced with my body’s wacky hydration issues, this story would end in tragedy, with me bent over a toilet. But thankfully I was able to keep myself awake for about 2 more hours, sipping enough water to avoid dehydration.

The next morning, I bid farewell to Dallas and my new and old friends there. Brian dropped me off at the train station and I headed to Austin, where my couchsurfing host awaited.