This is the Life
Football has never really captivated me, much less the antics of Rapid Wien – sorry Vienna – but, if it’s a chance to enjoy a few cold ones with friends, it will have to do. With a couple of minutes to spare, I head to the Spar Gourmet around the corner for a beer run. My mother would be proud, knowing I could meet a deadline on such short notice…less so that it was for forty-five cent beers: Pittinger premium Schankbier, its taste only surpassed by its price.
Rapid is playing Beşiktaş – football know-how falls short of a success – and I’ve made it back for the remaining ten minutes. My social skills tell me to buckle down and get it over with, but my monetary senses say otherwise. God, she’d be proud! My first sip is welcomed by a quick gag reflex. Oh, Pittinger... The conversation continues, excuses are made for Beşiktaş´ superior technical prowess; the score remains one-to-two for them.
Throughout my youth, friends filled those empty voids in otherwise forgettable five-minute breaks between classes with football scores, only for me to interject with "insightful" questions like "have you heard of Puskás Ferenc?" Too frequent of a query, I keep quiet during the final moments of passionately high hopes.
Gag. This is the life...
If the beers at the bottom of the aisle are the cheapest, you might as well choose the can. Accept the brew. Accept the hangover. Accept the spinning bedroom. Accept lying in a gutter. Accept the choice of empty pocket. Accept talking nonsense. Accept dancing like an idiot. Accept bad karaoke. Accept beer breath. Accept urinating every five minutes. Accept to laugh at slightly funny jokes. Accept walking home regretting buying the cheapest beer on the shelf. Accept replacing every "choose" with an "accept" from the poster above the television.
- Dániel Glöckler