Berlin 3

Berlin 00:45 14/01/08
 
I negotiated Berlin’s commuter rail system with hardly a mishap.  Well, maybe one, but it was minor.  Okay, so I got on the wrong train at Ostkreutz, but I doubled back okay and found myself at Sondallee.  The hotel was visible from the platform, a huge glass and concrete affair.
 
I got into the hotel about 09:15, and to my surprise they were quite happy to let me check in to my room.  They even gave me a complementary razor and toothbrush to make up for those I had forgotten.
The continental plug I had brought with me was for some other continent, I think.  I had to get another adaptor from the foyer shop.  Twenty-five Euros!
 
The rest of the morning was spent sitting in a chair in the foyer, trying to look as though I enjoyed my own company.  Fortunately I was waylaid by Claudia, an old sparring partner from the newsgroups, and someone I had once spent an expensive Easter Sunday with.  She kept me entertained until noon, at which time we made our way to registration.
 
The girls on registration couldn’t find my badge.  Their manager looked me up on the system, and informed me I had been cancelled for non-payment.  What?  All this excitement, all this panic, not to be let in?  I had spent nearly four hours in Brussels, for crying out loud.  But the very nice woman in charge let me in, and after I had dug up the email authorising my passage, all was well.
 
The rest of the afternoon was spent on geeky Micrososft stuff.  The highlight of which was Richard Klees speech on what was good and what was bad in presentations.  Oh crap!  I’m going to have to rewrite my presentation to him from scratch.
 
Afterwards I rushed to my room and my prepared presentation, then off to the buffet and beer reception.  I tried to keep my alcohol consumption to a minimum, but the bar closed well before nine, the budget met.
 
Somehow I found myself at the girly table, which spilled over into the bar as we were shepherded away from the buffet area.  The girly table was joined by a bunch of Swedes.  Now, me and Swedes have a history.  At least, I’m told we have a history.  To be honest, on the various occasions I have drunk with Nordics, I can’t remember much about it.  Other tables kept looking at our area as the screams and shouting became more raucous.  I have to say, it was not the men making all the noise.  I was in heaven, girls either side of me, slapping me every time I made a witty and erudite comment.  And it’s odd, the more I drink, the more erudite and funny I become.  I had to leave in the end, as my wallet was empty and my body was covered in bruises.  Bring on tomorrow!
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About snodlander
Snodlander is the nom de plume of Bob Simms. He is an IT trainer, but it's not as glamourous as it sounds. When he's not enthralling classes with adventures through SQL Server, he writes, draws and drinks his own home-brew. Buy his novel on Amazon Kindle at The Young Demon Keeper, It's 74p, for crying out loud!

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