As part of our German Series, we took the Stilts resident drunk, Sam Maguire, to the German Club in Woolloongabba for some tasty brews. If you’re looking for a Friday night where an old dude with a synth machine and Lederhosens performs covers of such hits as ‘Smells like Teen Spirit’, ‘Khe Sanh’ and ‘Single Ladies’, then the German Club is for you. See you there next Friday!
Here is Sam’s pick of the beers.
It is your first beer of the night. The bartender gives you a glass as tall as a small child and lets you pour the beer yourself. You pour way too much head. The table drinks from your glass like a traveller lost in the desert. You try and make your way past the thick layer of foam at the top and then the cool liquid touches your parched lips. There is an earthy, wheat flavour. The gas tickles the back of your throat. The beer speaks. It says welcome to the land of happy chubby people. Welcome to the land where every song coming out of the speakers sounds like your dad singing karaoke. Welcome to the land where they eat dinner for breakfast and drink beer out of glass baseball bats. It says welcome to Germany. Welcome home.
You send a friend to the bar with an example bottle in hand because you are too afraid to pronounce it. This is the second beer, the beer for drinking contests and post ice-breaker conversation. It is the perfect beer for it. Dark in flavour but not too rich or concentrated, it is a thirst killer. It goes down like the run-off from a glacier slipping down the cracks that lead deep into the earth. It is over quickly and now you are not sure which person you were just having a conversation with.
The DJ is wearing green overalls and a skin-coloured shirt. He starts to sing Lady Gaga just like you sing Lady Gaga. It is time to party. It is time for Paulaner. This is a beer you can happily drink five litres of, one litre at a time. It is the beer for when conversation loses track of itself and cigarettes are no longer owned by anyone, they are a god given right like water or air. People are drawing sad mice and singing too many Ps in Poker Face. Drinking speeds up and then you hit the sound barrier.
When you get this beer your drinking hits a wall of solid alcohol. This beer is pure dark matter. It is harvested from black holes at the centre of the galaxy and sold by men who are serious about their drinking. Its taste is dark and rich. Kind of like a haunted fairy-tale forest. It is the beer only you like and you are proud of it. However, the beer you start with is not the same as the one you finish. The time for counting drinks is over. It is time for a desperate battle with unconsciousness. You hold on. By the time you have finished one somebody hands you another half a glass of it. Suddenly the bar is closing. You did it. You conquered the dark, evil boss battle at the end of the game. Rising orchestral music starts playing in your head. You are relieved but still kind of sad. It is time to go home. Or if you are me it is time to hit The Valley and spend your rent money on vodka and cokes while dancing like a dying spider.
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