Our second visit to the Oktoberfest Fairgrounds (the first Monday of Oktoberfest, mind you) was sans William. We left him at home to play with a babysitter while Jeff took me to experience my first time in an Oktoberfest tent. And what an experience it was!

Everything started seemingly calm and festive . . .
Bavarians and tourists were enjoying refreshing Oktoberfest beer.
The band was playing fun, upbeat German songs.
And everyone's trying to speak German or English over the roar of thousands of conversations in the tent.
Everything started seemingly calm and festive . . .
Bavarians and tourists were enjoying refreshing Oktoberfest beer.
The band was playing fun, upbeat German songs.
And everyone's trying to speak German or English over the roar of thousands of conversations in the tent.
The next thing you know . . .
You're sucking the salty, basted skin off a chicken like they don't serve utensils.
Everyone is standing on their bench singing along to more upbeat songs flowing from the bandstand.
And you're ordering your second mass of beer.
By the end of the night . . .
You can't remember the last time you sat down.
You are singing along to German songs you couldn't even pronounce the words to.
You're singing even louder to the American songs that immigrated their way onto Oktoberfest traditional playlists.
And you've never met a stranger in the entire tent.
God Bless, Bavaria.
Where did you get the perfect dress. Your California spirit will never again be as pure as before. Skál!
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