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At the Prater

Prenzlauer Berg, Berlin
July 25, 2003

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Once their bratwursts were gone, the daughters got impatient with sitting and began to run around the beer garden, climbing stairs and lying in the paths of people carrying large steins of foamy beer. They said they wanted to go get some ice cream, and when could we leave? We were not yet finished with our first beers when Oli came back with some sweet green beer concoction that he promised us was "traditional Berlin." I thought, more likely it's a joke they play on tourists, as I don't see any traditional Berliners drinking them.

Jen spotted Ellie sitting across the main steps into the garden and asked if I would go deal with that. I got up and went and asked them to please stay out of people's way. Can we get some ice cream, they asked. Maybe, I said, but not if you keep making me come over here.

I went back to the table. "Okay, I handled it," I said.

"You handled it?" Oli asked. "Like hell!"