It was our last night in Munich, Germany. In less than 12 hours I would be heading back to Orlando and my friends Jason and Adam (NSFW) would be heading to Chicago and New York City, respectively.
Adam and I had early flights out the next morning and he decided not to get a hostel for the night. With the total trek (including walking and waiting) to the Munich airport being at least an hour there was no point in sleeping. Being that it was an International flight, he’d have to get to MUC around 5 am to be on the safe side for his 7 am departure.
I thought about it for a few minutes and decided I’d pull an all-nighter as well since my flight was at 9 am.
With all of that settled we went out for the night to our new favorite bar, Schwabinger 7, king among dive metal bars.
The music is loud, the bartenders are amazing, the drinks are cheap, the people are friendly, and the place is very small and very packed every night. Always the makings for a good time.
Side note: the men’s bathroom is pure filth. Just like a dive bar should be.
We sat down with a large group of German students who were in Munich for just a few more days on some kind of school trip. Their English was good, but I didn’t understand if this was a Winter break or if they were in town to study.
Whatever the case, they were definitely in town to drink.
By 3 am, with a sufficient amount of Germany’s finest flowing through our systems, we headed back to Jason’s hostel. After getting some food at the only place open this time of night (Burger King, so I had fries and salad) Adam and I picked up our bags from Jason’s room and said goodbye.
With a night of drinking and, unfortunately, close-quarters in a smoke-filled room behind me, I really needed a shower. I knew there were showers at the Munich airport so I was really looking forward to getting there quickly.
Adam and I had both spent our last Euros on food and the ticket machine at the train station didn’t take credit cards. In a lot of places that would be a problem, but Germany’s authority figures seemed to be pretty lax about actually checking to see if anybody’s public transport tickets were valid.
So we chanced it, didn’t pay for the 9 Euro train tickets (sorry Munich, I love you, and I will repay you somehow!), and got on the next train to MUC, a 40 minute ride.
I clutched an old train ticket in my right hand and went to sleep, hoping if an agent actually came around, he’d see the ticket and wouldn’t wake me up to check it.
At the airport, I said bye to Adam and went off to locate those showers. It was now 5am and in my slightly drunken and definitely very tired state, it took me a few circles around the airport before I found them.
Being that it was so early the showers were empty so I made my way to the very last of 6 stalls.
I once paid $7 for a shower at a dirty truck stop in the middle of the Arizona desert. The MUC airport shower was free and didn’t have the “truckers use this shower for unmentionable acts of biology” vibe. A clear winner in my book.
After my much needed shower I started brushing my teeth half-naked at the sink just outside my stall when a short man with shoulder length, curly hair, walked in.
He headed straight towards me, opened my stall door, walked inside and started laying his things down next to mine.
Each stall is separated into 2 “rooms,” so you can have all of your belongings with you in the stall, but they won’t get wet.
I quickly spit the soap out of my mouth, opened the stall door, and asked the man what he was doing.
He responded in a language I didn’t understand. It definitely wasn’t English or German so this didn’t bode well.
I pointed at the things strewn about the stall, said “That’s my stuff, what are you doing?” and then pointed at the other available showers.
He looked at me, said something in his indecipherable language, and continued unpacking his shower essentials.
Again, I pointed at the other showers and angrily asked him what he was doing. None of this seemed to matter to him and it was clear this conversation wasn’t getting anywhere.
I gathered my gear and left thinking “this feels like it would only happen in a movie.”
What a perfectly memorable way to cap off my last night in Germany.
I’m just thrilled he didn’t make my acquaintance 15 minutes earlier.
Always take the first stall. Be it toilet or shower, almost everyone walks by the first stall, meaning it will be the cleanest and you will have the least chance of being disturbed. Enjoy your travels.
Timothy, The psychology of that technique is genius! Thanks man!
Karol
haha. wow. that’s messed.