Friday Night Nuremberg
In New York, Thursday nights were strictly reserved for chichilala trendo snooty parties where you rub elbows with people who obviously spent 3 hours changing from Prabal Gurung to Alexander Wang to Jason Wu to some-other-swanky-so-called-up-and-coming-deisgner-of-Asian-descent, speed down champagne at open bars, pretend to care about that artist/art/painting/sculpture/store opening/new luxury sock bunny collection, and pretending to be on a juice fast. It is also for deliberately unplanned-planned drunken soirees and mistakes that make me glad alcohol induced amnesia exists in the world. Then, Friday nights are reserved for awkward dates and dollar shots in dive bars with friends for numbing the trauma from aforementioned date; and champagne is to celebrate being lucky enough to escape being guilt-tripped into putting out because the aforementioned date bought you dinner at Per Se.
The rest of the weekend is then spent in a fleeting buzz, as one would usually be busy using the full 48 hours afterwards to let body parts, mind and soul do the necessary recovery.
Time heals all.
Since moving to Nuremberg, life has changed.
First things first, German boys (definite generalization here, but I’m not sorry if you feel offended) are probably one of the least forward male specimens in the universe. Even aliens have made some kind of attempt at reaching out (HELLO, Pyramids, Stone Henge, Loch Ness Monster, Bermuda Triangle?). But damn, German boys are very likely to never ask you out for fear of god knows what, and they seem to rarely want to engage in a one-night nooky. I am surprised that with this…reserved nature of theirs, they have yet to die out. Totally suspecting some medically advanced asexual/vegetative reproduction thing going on. If anyone knows why German boys are this way, please enlighten me. Though to be fair, it is either they are shy, or a lot of people I know has low investment value in this country. Maybe you really can’t force a nation with a penchant for squishy white sausages to enjoy like… iono, something that is not a squishy white sausage?
Either way, the point is, Friday nights have become a platform for creativity because I have so much time to myself, and other than getting drunk at the bar that has been “the bar” for the past 500 decades, there is very little to do. Maybe except for changing the backdrop you prefer to ingest your posion to. And there are so many choices and variations to that— from this tree to that tree, from this biergarten to that biergarten, from a friend’s terrace wicker chair, to under a friend’s bed. Move over, America, Deutschland ist die neue Land Of Opportunity!!
But, for the first time in my life, I have realized, there are SO MANY THINGS one can do on Friday nights. And it is ABSOLUTELY OKAY if you don’t have a date/haven’t had one in the past year and a half. And it is OKAY to relax on a Friday because you need some peace and quiet to question your net worth as a member of the opposite sex, and do a detailed post mortem on why it is so.
For instance, one can watch Gossip Girl reruns circa 2009 on the balcony. Then one can watch Gossip Girl reruns circa 2009 on the couch (Oh! The places you will go!). Or one can hook one’s computer up to the tv, and watch Gossip Girl on a beautiful flatscreen. If you get bored of that, you can read about Gossip Girl online, and ruminate on whether The Oak Room is still the best place to pick up bankers and get sleazy Russian men in expensively tacky suits passing through town on “business” to buy 30 dollar tequila shots. And then afterwards, you can Google “watch GIRLS season 2 online” and realize it is not available. You can cry a little, and after tossing around the idea of rewatching “How To Make It In America” and going gentle to “Friends”, before ruling out the classic “SATC” as it will probably make you want to throw yourself through the window just so you can get a bit of action, you decide watching “Keeping Up With The Kardashians” isn’t so bad. If looking at what you had and wondering “what could have been” hurts too bad, it is always good to dream of a sunnier, more frivolous place you know would be great to have a casual fling with.Of course, you can also ruminate on why you are so much more awesome than Kim Kardashian and her table-top-ass, but no one wants to make a reality show of you, and offer you hundreds and thousands and millions of dollahs to tweet about what you had for lunch today.
And then you would realize, oh wait, you are not dating Kanye West. And it would never occur to you that it is because the most exciting event of your first night to the weekend, is trying to stream old tv shows off illegal sites, and hoping you don’t accidentally click on “DU BIST GEWINNEN (or something to that effect in gramatically sound German)” and download weird pancake and frog porn or whatever.
That said, Fridays in Nuremberg are the best (day out fo the week)! Though, maybe I will swallow my words, as Sundays, with no stores open, is a even more flexible and inspiring platform for creative time-spending, and usually A LOT MORE THRILLING than Fridays!

Oh wait, did I also tell you, goat touching is a totally legit Friday night activity! They also love the smell of alcohol and those 9 double gin and tonics you just had wafting from your breath with every exhale.

In case you don’t know where Nuremberg is. Which honestly, unless I met you here, or you are a history freak, why would you?
