It's all fun and games until the mafia turns your dinner party into a casino and sings a few songs.

I like internationalism and multiculturalism. I like the breaking down of borders and mixing of cultures. But sometimes, things just clot up together in a really confusing way and it feels like you've been pantsed by progress. (More important pants-related news here.)

A couple of days ago, I flew from Paris, where I was meeting with PR firms and getting rained on, to Munich, where I had a meeting set with more PR types. But I was invited to some unspecified evening event with one of our German distributors. Apparently, we had participated in their Hausmesse, and I was just in time to join for dinner.

The Bahn workers were on strike, so I took a very efficient but expensive taxi from the airport to the hotel, and then another to the site of the event, the Flugwerft Schleißheim. I suppose if I had taken the time to google it, I would have known that I would be dining in a large aircraft hangar. A hangar full of vintage German aircraft. Curse you, Red Baron!

Not even a vintage Fokker and a DC-3 can keep 150 high tech resellers away from a free buffet. I was just getting comfortable with a glass of South African Cabernet when the light contemporary DJ music was interrupted by the sound of gunfire. Well, I'm pretty sure it was fake gunfire, but still pretty alarming during dinner among military aircraft.

The party was crashed by a band of euro-ambiguous actors portraying Al Capone and his merry band of molls and ganefs. Picture the villians from the first Die Hard movie. In high school drama gangster costumes. Speaking German-accented mock Italian.

Having generally menaced the catering staff and taken control of the party, the mobsters proceeded to sing a few songs. First, "Bad Bad Al Capone" to the tune of "Bad Bad Leroy Brown" then "Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend" and "We're in the Money," which served as a segue to the evening's final act of terrortainment, a casino night, as the gangsters handed out chips to each of their hostages and started dealing cards.

I sure was happy that the trains were running the next day so I could get into the heart of historic Munich and post this entry from the safety and comfort of Starbucks.

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