Maibock Season
Sebastian, a student from the US, eager to soak in Bavarian culture, stepped off the ferry, the fresh Bavarian air tingling with a mix of anticipation and freedom. While he made his way to the monastery tavern, the early morning sun filtered through the leaves of the trees, casting dappled shadows on the gravel path.
The air was fragrant with the rich aromas of breakfast, beckoning him forward. Sebastian chose a river-side table in the garden of the tavern, his light blue hoodie contrasting against the lush greenery around him. He glanced at his watch, anticipating his friends who were cycling. “Grüß Gott!” called a corpulent waitress named Resi, her cheerful demeanor reminding him of a favorite aunt. “What can I get you?”
Sebastian scanned the menu, his eyes landing on the Weißwurst breakfast. “I’ll have the Weißwurst breakfast,” he said, feeling his stomach rumble in anticipation. “And for drink?” she asked, eyes twinkling with mischief. Sebastian hesitated, wanting to immerse himself in the culture. “What do you recommend?” Resi didn’t skip a beat. “We’ve just cracked open a fresh barrel of Maibock. You’ll only get buck beer in spring season!” His brow furrowed. Did she really just suggest a beer to a nineteen-year-old at ten in the morning? He hesitated for a moment. “Um, I think I’m too young for beer. Do you have any energy drinks?” She laughed, “Too young for beer but asking for an energy drink? That’s really funny!" That’s when it hit him – even though it wasn’t legally required in Germany, a lot of bars only sold energy drinks to people over sixteen, the same age you need to be to drink beer. Sebastian smiled sheepishly, wondering if he might have just committed a cultural faux pas. Before he could voice his hesitation, she waved her hand dismissively. “The Weißwurst breakfast and a Maibock for you; I’ll be right back!”
Moments later, Resi returned, balancing a heavy tankard brimming with frothy Maibock —a golden liquid sloshing inside like liquid sunshine.
“Some Bock for you, that will make you strong. You’re anyhow too scrawny!” she declared with a hearty laugh. Sebastian blinked, taken aback by her directness but remembering he was in Germany, where blunt honesty seemed to be a cultural staple. Taking the tankard, he hesitated, staring at the frothy top. Was this really a good idea? But Resi’s cheerful gaze and the bustling atmosphere urged him forward.
The beer was unlike anything he had sipped before, far stronger than the watered-down brews back home. The taste exploded on his tongue—rich and malty. A warmth spread through his body, and he quickly felt a fuzzy buzz envelop him, even as he tried to keep his composure. “Whoa,” he murmured, shaking his head lightly in disbelief. He hadn’t anticipated this much strength. “Good, right?” Resi said, watching him with an approving smile. Sebastian blinked, the world shifting slightly around him. He could feel something changing but shrugged it off as he thought it was the effect of the alcohol. His light blue hoodie began to feel snug, almost restrictive. The fabric transformed, twisting and reshaping until he found himself donning a traditional Bavarian vest cloaked over a crisp white button-down shirt. He barely realized what was happening but with every sip, his transformation accelerated; His jeans shrank into short lederhosen, snug and foreign. Even his hair lightened to a striking blond hue, and an athletic build sprung forth from nowhere, redefining his reflection in the glass of the tankard.
Resi returned, placing a steaming bowl of Weißwurst in front of him. “Mei, what a dashing young man you’ve become! I told you the Maibock would make you strong! By the way, what’s your name?” Her smirk widened into a grin, full of sly charm. “Uh, it’s… Sebastian!” he stammered, caught off guard. But something about that name felt too formal, too distant—almost like a self-image he no longer recognized. Resi raised an eyebrow, amusement sparkling in her eyes. “What? Wastl, right?” Suddenly, it felt right, the name rolling off his tongue like a well-practiced phrase. He nodded, a confident grin spreading across his face as he declared, “Wastl!” “See? You’re already embracing your Bavarian spirit!” Resi chuckled, pouring him another tankard of Maibock. “Now enjoy your breakfast, Wastl!” As Wastl sipped the refreshing beverage, a wave of warmth cascaded over him. The sudden heat made him unbutton his vest and shirt, one button after another, until the cool air danced across his newly chiseled abs and pecs.
He glanced over at a group of girls in vibrant dirndls seated nearby, their laughter peeling through the warm air, and felt an irresistible urge to strut over with newfound bravado. “Servus! What’s a fella gotta do to get a smile from you lovely ladies?” he shouted, confidence bubbling from somewhere deep within. One of the girls giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Are you really flirting with us, sunshine?” Wastl winked and ran a hand through his blond hair, “Only if you promise to share some of those pretzels with me!” Meanwhile, another waitress, leaning against the monastery wall, watched the scene unfold. She turned to Resi, rolling her eyes playfully. “Did you turn another lad into a horny buck with your magic Maibock?” Resi grinned, unfazed. “But just look at our Wastl! A true Bavarian!” The laughter rang out, echoing against the waves of the Danube, as Wastl reveled in his transformation and his delightful new confidence.
