Normally, I would soak in the luxury of the hotel room, if not for the tremendous headache. I hadn't been this torn up since college.
I rolled over and I began to face the morning. I forgot to close the curtains and the daylight punished that mistake. No point trying to get back to sleep now.
OK, reality check, I thought to myself. I'm in the Park Inn hotel at Alexanderplatz. Berlin. Boys trip. Quincey. The club. Forgot what happened after that...
I'll put last night together in a second. But first - BERLIN!!!!
Got adjusted to the daylight as I approached the window to look out upon my favorite city. The massive Soviet era Fernsehturm tower faced me from beyond my window - an in-your-face testament of 60s Communist technical ability that has all but become a ubiquitous landmark of Berlin and an overpriced tourist attraction reminding us of dark days gone by. Now it is powerless and castrated, a physical symbol of Communism itself.
I check my phone. It's 9:00 AM. I don't imagine Quincey is up yet, and I see no need to wake him. I'll let him call me.
I feel awful. My stomach is empty, and my throat is burning - prompting an attempt to recall what happened a few hours ago. What time did I get in? 4?
That's early for this town.
I paced around my hotel room while I tried to get my bearings.
The Park Inn Hotel, at the center of Alexanderplatz, is one of the tallest structures in Berlin, and once served as a four star hotel for Communist dignitaries during the cold war. The Eastern Bloc officials got tremendously nice accommodations, compared to the common folk - after the fall of communism, these hotels would be bought by chains such as Radisson and Westin.
No doubt the hotel has since been renovated. The plush decor made it indistinguishable from any other global hotel chain. Still, the room was uniquely Berlin.
I jumped in the tiny shower to bring myself back to life while I committed to a breakfast plan. The lack of space in the room forced the designers to become creative. The shower stood inside the room instead of a separate bathroom - making cohabitation a bit more... familiar.
Oh yes, breakfast.
I'm on vacation, and in Berlin. Darren back home would make clear that a good breakfast is mandatory, so I make that the first order of business.
The Park Inn breakfast is overpriced and unsurprisingly sparse, so there's no need to even consider it. As European hotel breakfasts go, I've learned to err on the side of caution.
And besides, Berlin was not a typical German city. You can find anything here, and even the slightest attempt to explore will be greatly rewarded.
Threw on some clothes - choice doesn't matter this early in the morning. All that matters right now are gloves, a hat and a warm jacket. The warmth of the room hides how bitterly cold it is outside.
I make my way to the elevator and into the lobby. The presence of businessmen and convention-goers could confuse the fact that this is, in fact, Berlin.
And this lobby reminds me that this was the starting point of our adventure last night.
...
At the lounge nearest the elevator the night before, I waited for Quincey to come down. Our third boys-trip in as many years, we had become very efficient. And thus simple traditions had been born.
We always pick the Park Inn due to its central location and reasonable price. If we are here to party, we don't need extra features like a swimming pool or weight room.
My phone said 10:30 PM when Quincey emerged from the elevator as his dapper self. A handsome black man wearing perfectly fitting slacks, a white button up shirt and a sport jacket, he exuded class and style.
"My friend," he greeted me, in that play pretentious mannerism as he adjusted his cufflinks, "I believe it is time for a drink. Maaaaaawwww"
We ease our way into the hotel bar for a round of Jack and Coke.
A piano player is tapping out 80s hit songs. It's an upscale corporate type bar that is trying to be hip. What do you expect from the Radisson?
Quincey and I would plan our annual trip during the weekend of Berlin Fashion Week in mid January, and yet we never attended any events. Still, it guaranteed there would be massive parties.
We pulled away after a brief conversation, and focused on each other.
"Since we are here," I started, "Now seems like a good time for a Millionaire's Club meeting."
And the drinking commenced... read more