Digressed

December 8, 2003: The Christmas Party

So I’m in Frankfurt for work but this time I’m here by myself. This past Saturday my company was to have its Christmas party at the Mark. Only problem is the Mark is in Atlanta and I’m several thousand miles away. And, it’s not so much that I wanted to make the party but it would have been a fun weekend in Atlanta with my brothers and some friends.

Anyways, I still managed a little celebration of my own. It inadvertently started Saturday at lunch time: I decided to grab a bite at the Planet Bistro which has an incredible lunch menu that includes soup, salad, and entrée for around 6€. Unfortunately, I find out this is only a weekday thing but, ah well, I improvise.

While ordering, the waiter asked what I was doing here, where I’m from, etc. After a little chit-chat, he mentions that Saturday night is a cool night at the Planet and that I should come back to check it out. They have cocktails, and very very fun as he says. I thank him and tell him I’ll think about it.

A bit later, as I’m enjoying the meal, I hear someone say hello, my friend!. I look up and do a double-take when I realize it’s the guy who either owns / manages the place (people from work probably know who I’m talking about) and, well, he’s actually talking to me. Anyways, we manage to chat for a bit, I finish my meal and order the necessary latte macchiato. I toy with the idea of actually checking out the Saturday night here but also think about how much I have to do for work. Well, that lasts all of 15 seconds when I remember the X-mas party is tonight in Atlanta so, in the infamous words of Agent Smith, I say to myself:

Me, me, me.

I wasn’t going to make the Atlanta X-mas party but damn if that means I’m not going to make the Langen X-mas party of one (featuring yours truly). Any complaints or issues by management regarding this decision should be addressed to webmaster@gotohell.com cause it’s merry x-mas to me, me, me, baby. I gladly accept the invite and make plans to return some time after 9pm.

I won’t bore you with the details of Saturday in the office but 9:30pm rolls around and, armed to the teeth with enthusiasm, I head to the stretch known as Downtown Langen (some people might say that calling it a downtown is a stretch in itself). On the way I pass by Jume’s, a trendy German / Spanish tapas restaurant bar we’ve frequented, and decide that what I’d like to do a little of that bar-hopping action so I strategically park the car so it’s not too far way from Jume’s planning on hitting it by the end of the night.

I get to the Planet and, while not as packed as I remember it a Friday night we stopped to get some coffee a little while back, there’s still a decent crowd. I sit at the bar and the same wait staff from earlier in the day is still here and they’re very enthusiastic about getting me drunk (different continent, different culture, different language, yet a common harmonic purpose.. it’s a beautiful thing). They present me with this small piece of paper with a table listing some 20+ various alcohols and liquors plus your standard mixers. From what I initially understand, the deal is: mark the alcohol, the mixer, jot your name and 5€ later you’ve got your poison. Ok, so it sounds far from special but, still, it’s not bad cause they do have stuff like Captain Morgan, various decent vodkas, rum, gin, schnapps, etc.

I order the Caprese, a mozarella, tomato & basil dish, and start off with the standard Mojito just cause they’re hard to resist. The music is a good mix of salsa and other latin-influenced beats so, yeah, I’m all kinds of good. I finish my meal and stare at the drink sheet for a bit and wonder how much it’d be if I wanted to check off more than one alcohol and get something like a CaMo, Malibu & Pineapple. I figure 10€ would probably be unlikely but something like 6-7€ wouldn’t be bad. So I ask and they clarify by saying: “no, mark anything you want, as many as you want… 5€”.

I stare at them blankly for a few seconds until I finally regain the ability to process thought when I say to myself: well, you sure’d never find this special back home.

In case you don’t know, mixed drinks are not generally cheap around here, usually around 6-9€ in most places. Yet the Planet has Stellar Saturday Night Madness where you can get your gin & tonic fix for 5€; or a rum & coke for 5€; White Russian? 5€; My CaMo, Malibu, and pineapple: 5€; Long Island? No problem: 5€. Vodka, gin, Malibu, rum, peach liquor: what do you know? 5€. Even Scott could get down and crazy with a pineapple juice, cranberry juice, orange juice, banana syrup, ginger ale and soda… How much? five euros, baby!

Freaking awesome. (Sorry Scott, couldn’t resist).

Anyways, after an hour and a half, I’m buzzing hard so I get myself a water and a macchiato, down them and decide to walk it off. It’s chilly out so the buzz doesn’t last long and it’s not even a block up the road when I think to myself: I need a drink to warm up. Well, someone up there is looking out for me as a sign comes down straight from the heavens and it says Casa del Sol, Cantina y Bar Mexicano.

And I say to myself: Arriba, arriba.

In contrast to most other places this night, the cantina is packed as usual. As a matter of fact, the only time I haven’t seen this place packed is during lunch and that’s because they’re CLOSED. Anyways, I find an opening at the bar and, while I remove the 7 extra articles of clothing you’d wouldn’t wear but 8 days / year in Florida, the guy next to me asks if I want to sit down while pointing to an open stool I had missed. I thank him and grab a seat.

While my Caipi is in the works (according to Drew, these things do a wonderful job at cleaning your teeth), Thomas and I start a nice conversation. He explains the reason why Langen is so dead tonight (and most Saturday nights) is because it’s a week-day type of city. A lot of people work here but live in many other parts of Germany so they make the M-F commute staying here during the week. I had forgotten how easily a good rail system could promote long-distance commutes and remembered the time I meet a guy on a train from Paris to Amsterdam who explained he did something similar. Well, he actually lived in Utretch, which is still like a 3 hour train ride, yet it was no problem commuting to Paris (take a minute and repeat to yourself out loud: commuting to Paris.. *sigh*.. freaking jealous).

Anyways, Thomas and I keet chatting for some time until I decide to move on. As I dress up and buckle all my armor, he mentions he and his buddies usually hit the Cantina for happy hour on Thursday nights and that I should make it out to meet them. Kick ass.

The longer walk down to Jume’s easily lets me gather my senses while numbing various other parts of my body and, as expected I’m parched by the time I arrive. Jume’s is not as busy as usual but it’s late and it’s Saturday (see: Thomas). I grab a table and get myself a water and another mojito. I’m definitely feeling the long hours now so this is going to be my last stop. Still, as tired as I am, I strike a conversation with the waitress and, in talking about things to do in Frankfurt, she tells me of a club called King Kamahameha - King Ka for short - where on Saturdays they play the best house and, well, also happens to be her favorite place (sweet).

Now, I’ll have to wait and see if it can top Korean Karaoke (kidding) but, heck, I start to think to myself: hmmm.. Next Saturday night.. X-mas party number two?