Here in the village was fair. Like every year at Easter.
Normally I'm not particularly fond of this festival-like spectacle, as they attract more of an audience with which I have no large sympathies to all. I did however, like every year my best friend wide strike for at least an evening the hustle bustle of farm children, village Nazis and young at heart, retired to let it wash over me. make
To Caro, my best friend, not the evening with my Gefühlsbrei from foreign Cham, loathing and narcissistic arrogance broke, I began obtain colder already at home on my intellectual level, with the help of beer and liquor, to that of the attending crowds. When we arrived at the fair grounds, I was so dazed that I appeared answesenden people almost sympathetic.
The relatively sober Caro pulled me from ride to ride, until we finally at one, we know already from last year, attraction were: the "Caterpillar" unfolded before us in their traditional and simple beauty. Caro
After two cards for both of us bought we sat side by side in the ride and have already heard the voice of the stocky built the showman was collecting the tickets: "Tickets please".
After I gave my ticket Caro looked at me questioningly, "You have yet not drunk too much, right?". In that very moment was racing the "caterpillar" but already going full force, accompanied by the sound of the 90s dance-floor charts. She pressed my body on the bulky wooden bench. Because of the alcohol and the enormous speed, my stomach cramped so that I the contents of them only with difficulty could hold back.
After the horror ride came to an end, found my lunch distorted by stomach acid to an abrupt end in one of the many drains. The evening was over for me and I tortured myself moaning in the next bus.
After I drove 5 stations I heard a voice that pulled me from my sleep postvomitalen: "Tickets please!".
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