Friday 5th November 1999
The usual three, along with Sam did the usual pubs. Nothing too exciting
happened, I think.
Saturday 6th November 1999
Awoke with a stinking hangover and fired up the Playstation. "Driver"
really is a kick-arse game. It managed to eat pretty much my entire
weekend. I was going to go into town but I hadn't been paid yet so
there wasn't much point as I hate seeing and not buying. Did a bit
of shopping and ate/drank/smoked the lot over the weeknd.
Sunday 7th November 1999
Same old sad boring stuff. Read a couple of books, ram raided a
few restaurants in "Driver" and slept a fitful sleep.
Monday 8th November 1999
Tuesday 9th November 1999
Wednesday 10th November 1999
All quiet.
Thursday 11th November 1999
Mark and I were a bit bored with work and I'd discovered that day that
my wages had finally been paid. So it was off to the bank at about 4.30pm
armed with my passport to grab some cash. I need my passport because
even though I opened my account 4 weeks earlier my cash card still hasn't
arrived. This myth of Germanic efficiency really is disappearing by the
day. The culprits are "SudWest Bank" in Ulm. If you want a German
bank account then I could recommend "Deutsche Bank". A colleague [ British ]
opened an account and had his card in something silly like 4 days.
Anyway, armed with a pocket full of cash - which was much lighter after
paying back the 800DM debt to Mark that I'd accrued over the past few
weeks I wandered over to the train station to buy my BahnCard and my return ticket
for Berlin. Then it was over to the D2 shop to buy myself a German SIM card
to pop into my phone. [ My new number is +49 173 4716180 ] This
means I don't have to pay cash everytime some idiot phones me from England
with a pointless conversation. My British mobile number will only be
switched on when I'm in the U.K. from now on, so if you want me then I'm
afraid you're making an international call.
After the 'shopping' trip was complete it was off to Bar Fuss for a bite to
eat and a quick taster of some fine Bavarian lager. I ordered a sausage
salad with a french stick, which conjured up visions of a fine Wurst
in a French stick, a bit of mustard and a small side salad. In reality,
what arrived looked to me like slivers of uncooked sausage mixed with
a shite load of onions and something green......oh and a french stick.
The look of it made my stomach churn and the smell of it was just too much.
I suspect it would have tasted quite nice but I just couldn't pluck up the
courage.
The conversation was along the lines of:
Me: Well I'll be f*cked if I'm eating that.
Mark: Why not?
Me: It looks raw and smells like Dom's socks.
Mark: Well what are you gonna do?
Me: Drink beer and smoke fags.
Mark: You can't just leave it.
Me: Watch me.
You could then see the thoughts running through his head. He looked
at his food and looked at me. I looked at his food and looked at him.
Mark: You want this?
Me: Yeah mate, looks pretty good to me.
Mark: Moan, grumble, whinge, moan, moan.
[PAUSE]
Me: Chomp, chomp, munch...bit less salt next time mate alright?
So, I still don't know what I ate but it was pretty good anyhow.
Following this we bobbed off down to the boozer to lose horrendously
in a quiz that was read out in German. Still, can't have everything. At
least the bar staff were pretty.
