Thoughts On La Crosse Oktoberfest.

I entered a bar and stood among a crowd of self serving libertines, immediately I was shoved back and forth by college aged (future leaders of America), poked like a cattle being tased and led to slaughter. A fart smell loomed as I ordered my first drink, as I sipped the cold whiskey it became apparent that my slaughter would be administered through a self-inflicted wound. More precisely tequila shots, copious amounts of Budweiser, and a few whiskey and waters to close out the night. By 7am the following morning screams were echoing inside my apartment, brought to my window by drunken throats below. I had to question what made this modern Sodom & Gomorrah so special, so desired. Was it the pedestrians ignoring traffic, running out into the streets like a herd of deer blinded by headlights? Was it the La Crosse police smiling and taking Selfies with all the pretty young girls that made such a dubious request? Or maybe it was the retired alumni that for one weekend were able to relive their college days, ingesting beer-bongs like their younger cohorts who would someday (God help us) take care of them as their livers screamed out in woeful regret. Whatever the reasons I found myself enjoying the circumstances. Granted, who wouldn’t? To be drunk for three days could provide any straight laced citizen with the lowered inhibitions required to survive such a hedonistic riot. And being of the “new media” age, I had to whoop while looking at my FaceBook Newsfeed. Filled with various narrations and requests:
“Hope everyone has a safe Oktoberfest!”
“I am never drinking again!”
“Another successful Oktoberfest!”
From my sober friends:
“If anyone is feeling weak feel free to contact me.”
But any self respecting addict knows a relapse is inevitable. Why not relapse on the three days where drinking oneself to death is not only accepted, but encouraged!
So…La Crosse. I hold my stein up to the overcast sky and smile towards that hidden sun, I promise to ignore the people screaming, “fucking move!” as I enter various lines to enter and exit various crowds, and I say CHEERS! Oktoberfest is nothing more than organized chaos displayed in the finest barbaric pageantry. And I for one love to dress up in a drunken stupor don’t you?

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