I wrote the below story 2 years ago for a Barstool Magazine Assignment.  It’s always been one of my favorites. Given the Greek Festival is taking place this weekend, thought I’d revisit the story. Entirely true life events. :-)

My Big Fat Greek Hangover
by Monica Danna

Originally Published: Barstool Magazine, Nov 2006

As the hot Houston heat subsides and the autumn temperatures creep in at a snail’s pace, one thing Houstonians can look forward to is the Fall festival season. Art festivals, the Italian festival, Turkishfest; we even celebrate Dia De Los Muertos for our neighbors south of the border. And all this before Halloween festivities even begin.

Being Italian, I’m fairly familiar with Greece and Greek culture. My knowledge goes a little bit beyond Mary Kate and Paris Hilton’s ex-lovers, but I am still always anxious to partake in any “cultural studies” especially when food and drink are involved. So I headed down Montrose to check out the 40^th annual Greek Festival.

Armed with a posse of fearless friends, we were for some reason filled with the urban spirit and decided to take the bus. YES-the Houston Metro. After walking halfway down Montrose (which would prove to not be my only trek down Montrose this night) we looked for a bus stop. We must have looked like Oprah Winfrey in a Wal-Mart. We had no idea were one was or what to do once we found one. I’ve lived in Houston for 28 years and have never been to a bus stop, much less on a Metro Bus. Wait, does the Rodeo Shuttle count? After finally finding one, waiting for 30 minutes for the right bus, we seceded our valiant environmental efforts and as a friend pulled up, “To Greece!” we shouted at our still-confused chauffer, and thus our Dionysian worship began.

The Annual Greek festival takes place every year in October on the grounds of the Greek Orthodox Cathedral. A beautiful area smack in the middle of Montrose, it shares Yoakum Ave. with the University of St. Thomas. Activities include tours of the gorgeous Cathedral, Folk Dance programs put on by the darling students of the Orthodox school, and a gift shop featuring unique jewelry, food imports, and artwork from Greek artists. Greeks love their food (and wine). Souvlaki (Greek “shiskabobs”), Greek wine, Gyros, Red Wine, Greek Salad, Greek Pizza, White Wine, and the ever popular dessert, Baklava, were just some of the native delicacies one can experiences at the festival. Did I mention the wine?

Bottle #1

With all the food choices, we couldn’t decide. So we headed straight for the “Wine By The Bottle” tent. We chose a Kretikos White. Now, I’m not sure what “Kretikos” means, but I’m pretty sure “Kretikos Red” and “Kretikos White” both translate into “The Devil in a Bottle,” if not, it should. And who are they kidding with those tiny wine cups? To serious drinkers like my group, these only served as wine shot glasses. The first bottle went down like the city of Troy.

Bottle #2

What goes better with Greek wine than Greek Dancing? Ok, so maybe some food would have been helpful, but we headed to the music tent to check out Alex Kalos a.k.a. “The Golden Greek”, think: Matsiyahu minus the Kipah. The one man band / DJ / entertainer began and ended each song with a resounding “OPA!” or as my friend Lauri kept exclaiming, “Like SOAPA…without the ‘S’!” Greek wine makes this statement a whole hell of a lot funnier than it looks on paper. Trust me.

On Bottle #3 I was having flashbacks of Tara Reid’s insightful party documentary “Taradise” as I attempted to give Greek Dancing a try. Ok, I’m no Janet Jackson, but I’ve been dancing all my life and have even been known to throw down a mean robot. However, the minute my friend and I stepped into the circle (seeping with Greek wine, mind you) we immediately felt as if we were the ONLY ones who could not catch on. Is Greek Dancing some random pattern of steps? Did we miss the tutorial? We felt as if we were on an episode of Punk’d and we were the only ones not in on the joke. We quickly gave in and returned to our other favorite Greek past time: drinking Greek wine. I mentioned the wine, right?

Bottle #4

There should be a warning label on Greek wine.

The label should read: DO NOT CONSUME…

…unless you plan to walk home.

…if you don’t plan on getting engaged to someone you aren’t even dating.

…unless you are confident you can catch on to Greek dancing. Quickly.

…if you are supposed to be writing a story on the Greek festival. (this requires memory)

…if you want to function the next day.

…until you have erased all ex-boyfriends’ numbers out of your phone.

…under any circumstance.

I canceled a trip to Greece a few years back as the Iraq war had just began. I’m beginning to think I may have survived a war before I survived a week in Greece. I now understand why Orlando Bloom, uh, I mean Paris son of Priam, started a ten year war over a girl…he was obviously drunk.

The next morning, as I celebrated my own Dia De Los Muertos, I didn’t know whether to call my friend and congratulate him on his engagement, call my editor and tell her I wasn’t able to make it to the festival, ice my twisted-Greek-dancing-ankle, or find my shirt and score a ride home from my ex-boyfriend’s. Ahhhhh Greek wine…OPA! (like Soapa, without the “S”).