you know what the Zuri Fäscht ? Me neither, at least until last week. The official website speaks of "Das Fest der Feste", which does not translate to respect your neurons. is considered the biggest carnival in Switzerland after the festival of el'Heidi Swiss Bratwurst Festival, where if you get the right stuff, you smile at the mountains and the kids make you hello. In Italy, however, since the last operation, the better the stuff you need to take However, given that the savings they make you hello, politicians and the maximum you incaprettano smiles Tremonti. But not digress too much. So, take the Fair obei obei , add concerts, clubs and outdoor fireworks in the streets, squares and lake areas of the city - Zurich, Milan did not - and you'll understand what the Zuri Fäscht. Rumors whisper that two million people have flocked between Friday and Sunday: foreign loggers, mountain people, bankers, farmers, villagers, tronista, the 101 Dalmatians, the cat, the mouse and the elephant, just not ... you can not see shit, because people flows like a river, crowded everywhere and makes it impossible for any movement. If you sneeze, next to me are those who blow their nose. add that I hate the crowd . I do not like close contact with people, particularly those who do not know. For this reason I do not like the demonstrations. This is why I rarely ever at a rock concert. Why not take part in meetings of condominium . But ... but I could not go. Integration. Required, since all clubs in the city were closed for the occasion , and I had no intention of remaining at home to update the status of Facebook. We begin by Friday night. After a succulent dinner with my neighbor watered by great French wine and a few glasses of rum and cola - dinner that takes place outside in the balcony, with the summer light fading, slowly, a gentle breeze to soften the ' unusually hot. Everything perfect, it would take only a couple of balls in more to cheer the symposium - we decided to reach L L & L , scorer of the World ... ... here is top scorer. Already slightly tipsy, we do carry out from the crowd of people poured into the streets. After the typical salaams, we move in the direction of Tunz Tunz. And here we are, a open-air disco, Timo Maas and the console next to me that a woman over fifty, with the grace of a hippopotamus, he performed in coordination of movement that hardly anyone would dare call 'dance'. Someone sober, I mean. The two do pirouettes before I book into the air and landed at the counter alcohol.
"Dreimal Cuba Libre, bitte", kindly ordered the pretty girl who is approaching quizzically. Unfortunately, looks quizzically not want to leave.
"Dreimal Coca und Rum, bitte." Specify that you never know. The expression denotes the skeptical doubt for excellence mixed with obtuse with a certain thickness.
"Wir haben keine Rum entschuldigung"
What? And that bottle of Bacardi is it? indicate it. She watches her, surprised, but her EEG is flat. Po, i went to consult with an expert in the area of \u200b\u200balcohol, which Confabula for a couple of minutes. Maybe a couple of hours. I do not know what these are, the fact is that holding me back from three lovely tall glass full of rum and coke. Brava, you can now return to serve the mousse.
We went on the saving of the evening, so just add the number of glasses and you know roughly how it went. So, go directly to Saturday. Around midnight, sated with the usual pizza and two beers average, I meet with some friends, ready to enjoy another night at the basis of electronic music. Tunz Tunz Tunz. The earth shake and shake well to my ear. In front of us, a meadow invaded by zombies that move the hands in the air and sway with every beat fired from speakers as big as condominiums. Here it is urgent to find a solution. They are the Mr. alcohol, solve problems. I venture to the bar with caution, being careful not to trample on the lifeless bodies that undermine the land. Finally, I reach the my goal. I wait patiently for my turn.
"Einmal Vodka Redbull, bitte"
This time the girl responsible for producing concoctions seems to be safe. Grab a bottle of Smirnoff - Smirnoff does that suck?! - And pours a drop in a glass filled with ice. And when I write 'a drop', I mean really. If you spit, you can fill a lot more glass. Then, washed down with a cascade of Redbull . He puts the juice on the counter and trying to extort 14 francs. I look at her dumbfounded. I look at the glass, and the dismay does nothing but increase.
"I really asked for a vodka redbull, what's this? Vodka Redbullshit?! "
I would have liked to say. I would have been cheered by the crowd, carried in triumph on the stage and attached to a drip of six liters of Belvedere. Instead, I did not say a word and I'm back in the meadow, the music deafening, the Fatton stunned. There, alone among all the juice in my hand and my face, distressed, tried a mask of sadness.
This story has taught me one thing. One important thing. A great life lesson. Except that I can not remember which , because the cocktail after they did their dirty work. Good week to all!
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