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coaster . . .”
    “How long have we actually been sitting in the dark now?” asked Hannes.
    “About half an hour,” Elke said and sipped her beer.
    Hannes was beginning to feel comfortable, and the conversation was starting to get lively. Ines shared a few anecdotes about her year in Africa, where she had been an aid worker. Hannes told them about his rather unexciting life as an athlete and police officer.
    “Really, you’re a cop?” Ben asked. “I could have guessed you were an athlete judging by your build, but you don’t strike me as a police officer. That could be because I’ve only met police officers in . . . other situations.”
    “That’s such a cool combination,” Elke said to Hannes. “You get paid to do what you love, and police work seems pretty exciting!”
    Hannes sighed and told her what his actual workday was like at the station.
    “I know how it is,” said Ines. “With me, everyone thinks development work must be really exciting and motivating. But I often spend so much time doing paperwork that I sometimes think I’m more of a bureaucrat than an aid worker. That’s why the year in Africa was a good change.”
    Elke did not have to deal with such difficulties. She worked as a teacher at a nursery school, where she was confronted with other challenges. Nor did Kalle, who as an event manager was always traveling.
    “Anyway, the last hours of my twenties have been pretty exciting,” Ines said.
    “What do you mean? Is your thirtieth birthday coming up?” asked Hannes.
    She nodded. “After tomorrow, I can no longer use my youth as an excuse. Damn, how time flies! It used to drive me insane when my grandma and parents said such things. But now I realize just how short a year actually is.”
    “Same for me,” Hannes said. “At twenty, I thought I’d have children by the time I was thirty, and it felt like that was still way off in the future. I always wanted to be a young father, but today I feel exactly as I did then. As if I had all the time in the world.”
    “How old are you?” asked Kalle.
    “Thirty-two. What about the rest of you? Are you still in your roaring twenties or are you old like me?” he asked, and it turned out the others were also over thirty.
    Hannes could already feel the effects of the alcohol; but this was not surprising, since as an athlete he almost never drank. Ralf, his rival, had been correct in calling Hannes a dork. At Hannes’s former club, he was nicknamed “the Workaholic,” because he placed everything second to his athletic success and frequently had to be sent home from the gym late at night.
    “Are you going to celebrate your thirtieth?” he asked Ines.
    “No, I just got back and have no desire to organize a big party right now. But you know what: if you’d like, you can come over tomorrow night. We’re having a few people over. Nothing much, just a few beers. No big to-do. No gifts. What do you say? It can’t be just a coincidence that we met each other this way.”
    “Great idea!” said Ben, and since everyone else agreed, they arranged to meet at eight.
    Nearly two hours had passed, interrupted only briefly by a worker who tried to reassure them over a megaphone that the Ferris wheel’s manual override was unfortunately defective.
    “Why is it taking so long for the power to come back on?” Ben said and shifted in his seat. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a bathroom break soon!” He pointed at the empty beer bottles by their feet. “As soon as this thing starts moving again, let’s find a toilet and then drink another round in the main tent. What do you say?”
    Everyone except for Ben looked at their watches.
    “You can see the difference between those with jobs and you,” said Kalle with a laugh. “We’ve all got to get up early.”
    “Oh come on,” he begged. “You can’t let a special evening peter out like that!”
    After a while, they all gave in.
    “Okay, but only if we get our feet back on the