German Sausages & Irish Flirting

von Felix

Wednesday there was a bring-a-dish-from-your-home-country-party, but apart from the fact that our initially sneered at frankfurters were gone in the blink of an eye there’s not much to tell. If you ever have to prepare German food for a large number of people, just buy good ol’ sausages and mustard. That might not be as impressive as the delicious Tartiflette from France or a mouth-watering Spanish omelette, but it’s popular finger food, can be prepared within some minutes and is still tasty when it’s not warm anymore. Depending on where you are it might even be cheap. Downside: some people will assume that you can’t cook a proper meal. Don’t do it if you want to impress girls…
But enough about the grandeur of German sausages, I wanted to tell you another story.

Our way to this eating binge was more interesting. Chris and I left the house and went to the Belgard stop where we had to wait quite some time for the next Luas. Our boredom did not last long: a bunch of teenage Irish girls showed up. They were all dressed in the ubiquitous tracksuits and were really young; maybe twelve or thirteen years old. While we just stood next to the rails and waited, they were running around us, climbed the benches and used their high-pitched voices to shout annoying (ridiculous) lines at us. Chris managed to keep a straight face, I had a really hard time to hold back the laughter.

Then they tried to hit on us. “Can I have your number? Can I have your number?” a girl asked me with her thick Dublin accent “I’ve got a black marker and a red one. I’ll write your number in red on my arm. Red for love.” Gosh, this was too much for me. I don’t know what came over me, but for some reason I suddenly had to think of a song and replied: “It’s 222 2222, I got an answering machine that can talk to you.”

The rest of the evening this BossHoss song was stuck in my head:

By the way: this is a cover of De La Soul’s Ring Ring Ring (Ha Ha Hey).

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