Prost Me Maybe, by j

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October is one of my favourite months. It is when fall is officially here, for me. Cooler weather, cozy food, crisp breezes and beautiful trees. And Oktoberfest.

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And this October I was also lucky enough to have an awesome friend come back to Ontario after 10+ years on The Rock. So when she decided to come to the KW area it made sense for her to plan her arrival for Oktoberfest, right?

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So, I got out of my internship early (no I didn’t tell them it was to drink beer) and drove down to KW to experience Oktoberfest for the third time.

We decided, very hastily five days earlier to check out the Alpine Club. It wasn’t a calculated decision, there were tickets left and I hadn’t been there yet. We called a cab and with hat and feather in hand we were on our way.

The Alpine Club was a bit of an older crowd, but still had plenty of youth hanging about getting their Prost on. But definitely one of the smaller venues. But that didn’t stop the, from churning out the schnitzel and ‘kraut. Or if you’re a vegetarian like Shannon, mashed potatoes and ‘kraut.

Oh, yes. And the beer nuts.

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The music was polka-ing, the old folks were dancing (and I did think of that old guy from last year’s Oktoberfest who acted like a sad puppy and got every woman under the age of 25 {including A} to dance with him…) and the beer was a flowin’, making way for these types of fools:

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That being said, I do find the Oktoberfest crowd to be quite a friendly bunch, just looking for a good time.

Everyone got very excited to see the Alpine dancers. I didn’t think it would be too exciting. I’ve seen them before, and I remember them just dancing real slow with those “A” props meant to look like a mountain, I think. But then I learned that when your at the Alpine Club, you get a little extra:

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Oh, yes. They chopped some wood. To music. My fave was that young kid in charge of stabilizing the log with his foot. I would have freaked out.

And the night was full of brushes with celebrity. By 10pm a zydeco band arrived with Miss Oktoberfest, a couple of mayors and the marshalls of Oktoberfest, the stars of some garbage show, “Canadian Pickers”, Uncle Hans and Ziggy and Zaggy. And then they tapped a keg. It was exciting.

And we got to see the new video for Oktoberfest that a bunch of dirndl and lederhosen wearing kids made. Yes, the “Call Me Maybe” parodies are a bit much now, but the “Prost Me Maybe” isn’t so bad.

We made our way back to Shannon’s empty apartment at a decent hour as I had to leave at 7am to get to work for 9am the next day. Did I mention that I forgot to make sure that the air mattress I had brought had a working pump?

Here’s my review of Shannon’s floor: It’s hard as fuck and will mess up your back if you try to sleep on it with no mattress. Oh, and it makes a day full of paperwork and playing with five year olds a bit of a bitch. (Sidenote: I would sleep on a hard floor for very few people. Shannon, you are the shit. Thanks for the tablecloth that kept me warm, as I slept on top of my sleeping bag).

All in all a very successful night, next year will be bigger and better. I vote we tackle the granddaddy of Oktoberfest festhallen, The Concordia Club (the birthplace of KW Oktoberfest according to our cabbie). Who’s in?

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About weywardsisters

The Three Weyward Sisters first appeared in Shakespeare’s “Macbeth”. It turns out we have more in common with these “weird” sisters than we thought. In the Shakespeare play the sisters represent darkness, chaos and conflict. We’ll leave it up to you to decide which of us represents each. They also usually show up to mark impending doom. Well, we certainly hope that our presence on this little corner of the Interwebs doesn’t mean impending doom for anyone. However, we find our commonalities with the witches in other ways. To be weyward means to be willful, disobedient and to turn away from what is “right or proper”. Those who know us would whole heartedly agree – we are three weyward sisters. We are three headstrong, stubborn (some more than others), obstinate and willful sisters. Read at your own risk.

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