My gas can looks like any other. Except its insides have never seen gasoline. A long time ago, when I was still young and the alcohol I could afford usually didn't taste very good, I decided to make a cocktail that would use that same alcohol.
to make it taste tolerable, ideally even enjoyable. So it turned out that after many frustrating attempts, I finally perfected the recipe for my "Mäx Special"—okay, maybe not perfect, but at least repeatable and enjoyable.
The recipe, for reasons no longer comprehensible today, was designed for 5 liters: a bottle of this, a bottle of that, half a bottle of this. The ordinary 5-liter reserve canister, available at any gas station, was quickly chosen as the container. The question of whether the plastic of such a container would meet the requirements of food law was not raised at the time. What's good for gasoline can't be good for
A high-proof cocktail wouldn't hurt. This made the party drink—for me—perfect!
Fiete's fiftieth
It was around the time when we were in our early 20s. Some of our friends' parents started to allow us to use the informal "du" form of address, and it was a time when we slowly became more at eye level with the adults. My friend Pete's father, Fritz, nicknamed "Fiete," was one of those adults. I liked Fiete very much. And I think he liked me and the other friends.
His son's, too. Certainly enough to invite me to his 50th birthday. The celebration took place in the restaurant of a country house.
I already knew a few family members of my friend Pete and knew it would be a fun evening. Unfortunately, I couldn't get there until later due to a hockey game (I was playing quite successfully at the time). I wasn't sure what to give a 50-year-old. I was running late and had a sudden realization that I still had enough
I had "leftovers" from last weekend to mix up a fresh canister of Mäx Special. I had already seen Fiete quite enthusiastically chilling our to-go cocktails with the house's own ice cubes on another occasion—the Holzbüttgen Shooting Festival, to be precise—and hoped I could make him a little happy with my gift.
There was only one problem: drinks in the restaurant had to be paid for according to consumption.
Therefore, of course, bringing your own drinks wasn't allowed. However, since Pete and I were motivated, we quickly flushed a few glasses of mushrooms in the men's restroom and smuggled my petrol can in with them. Everything seemed to be going well. Fiete, Pete, and I enjoyed the drink and didn't really care about the men's restroom. What we didn't realize at the time, however, was that
What we could foresee was that the gentlemen who came to do their business (all of them guests of Fiete) only left the men's room to get a glass for their cocktail! I'm not entirely sure, but I think that never before have so many
People, men and women, as it turned out, were in this toilet at the same time to
to enjoy oneself in a pleasant and stimulating manner while drinking a cocktail from a petrol can.
I later learned that one of Pete’s uncles had died miserably while trying to walk home.
failed in a front yard.
Weeks later at the Neuss fair, Pete’s grandpa Karl-Heinz gave me a friendly slap on the
shoulder and asked: "Well? Is that devilish stuff at it again?"
Speaking of fairs.
There was also Pete's bachelor party. Of course, I had loaded my gas can.
and with the safety off. When it came to the first round of drinks, our
My friend Thiemo asked. "I don't drink that stuff!" The confusion was great. I wasn't aware
that he had such an aversion. When asked, he revealed an old story that I
no longer remembered:
"You still remember the last Neuss fair? I can tell you how my
evening went:
Zack! We walk along Hammer Landstraße between all the stalls and drink Mäx-
Special.
Zack! We ride the Ferris wheel and drink a Mäx Special.
Zack! We're in front of the Frankenheim tent, drinking a Mäx Special.
Whoops! I puke between my legs.
Zack! I'm home, trying to unlock my door with a 5-euro note.
I'm not drinking that stuff anymore!!!"
He did.
Actually, we're just talking about a gas can. However, I associate it with a lot more,
namely friendship. Friendships are defined by what one experiences together and
The stories you can still tell years later. The gas can stories
Even after 20 years, they still appear from time to time. And that makes me quite proud of
my gas canister.
