Wien is not New York

The above is an understatement.

The story of a not so a-typical yesterday evening as a means through which to describe the little things I'm still getting used to.

John, Matt Andrew and I took the u-bahn (subway) over to Schottentor and the University area because we were looking for a bar Andrew's guidebook had listed as a top 10 "student hangout". It was this big Irish place called Charlie P's (which I kept accidentally calling Peter B's, I must I miss the library at Trinity more than I thought) on Wahringer Straße that had a great main bar with a simple carved wood back. It was disorienting to hear so many strangers speaking English again. It was nice to be able to order in english and make small talk with the bartenders but it also made it easier to understand people when they were being idiots. This one American guy kept yelling about how much he hated Austria and Germany and actually asked Matt and I "why we were fucking here?" We told him we were studying at the university this semester and I felt an odd pride in being able to tell him I was more than a tourist and really belonged in this city and this "student hang out" bar.

The English was the first thing I noticed but coming in a close second was all the smoke. I guess I've gotten more used to the New York indoor smoking bans than I had thought. You could see some of the beams of the stronger lights in the smoke. Generally it doesn't really bother me that much when people around me smoke. Sometimes at school I'll even go outside while other smoke to keep them company and for a temporary change of scenery, but its a little different when about 100 people are smoking inside. Its not really that big of a deal and I guess its just another thing I'll have to adjust to, perhaps with an investment in some fabreeze.

The bar was still a great time, lots of laughs, stupid conversations along side some more intelligent ones. This was especially true when, after about an hour of standing in a corner, we finally got a table. Besides a place to sit and a physical arrangement more apt for conversation, it also meant we got to order drinks from a waitress instead of fighting through crowds to get to the bar. The first time we ordered a round from the table I broke a 10 euro bill. My plan was to keep the paper money I got back and give her the coins as tip. I mean, whats a few quarters right? WRONG. 1 and 2 euros are coins here to and I gave her a tip just under 2 euros for my 3 euro beer, which is a 60+ percent tip. As someone who generally hates carrying change the fact that mere coins are actually worth much more than an American dollar bill has and will continue to cause problems, though my slight miscalculation will serve as a reminder hopefully.

The night ended as i foresee many ending. McDonald's waffle fries and a the night bus home.

(i'm starting to dig this whole blog thing so updates might come more frequently and have more depth and breadth than I thought they would, so check back if you like what you're seeing.)