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
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!"