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WHA' HAPPENED?
I'll tell you what drunk people do. They sleep until two. When they wake up they have an unformed recollection of slobbering over computer keys at five in the morning. In a panic, they log on to the internet to scout for havoc that may have been caused. Luckily my two last hammered posts were merely sentimental and stupid, containing no personal attacks, shameful revelations, or racial slurs.
Damn. I got destroyed last night. How did this happen? I was supposed to go to the gym, come home and read and write. Somehow I got sidetracked.
I was sitting on the can, reading a short story, when I heard my phone buzzing in the other room. I ignored it, preferring to complete the sizzling curry kimchee ass task at hand. The buzzing stopped and then resumed a few seconds later. It was then that I remembered I had made an appointment to hang out with a couple of Korean University students. It's one of those situations that pop up often here. Last Saturday I took my motorbike into a mechanic on the other side of town. My footpegs were loose- they felt like they were about to fall off. The old mechanic fixed my bike and we proceeded to have a conversation in halting Korean. "Where are you from? Where do you work? Are you married?" - that sort of thing. When he found out that I was an English teacher he got all excited and rattled on about someone at another university and kept repeating the word "friend" to me, while pointing at some contact information he had written down.
"Chingu. Chingu."
When I went to pay, he told me it was "suh-bis-uh," which is Konglish for "service," which is their way of saying "free." But, like anything in life, it wasn't really free. He wanted my phone number, which I gave to him.
It turns out he wanted me to meet his son and become his son's "English buddy." I was told by his son, when he called me, that if I hung out with him and spoke English, that his dad would fix my bike for free when I needed it. What the Hell? I thought. I had already scammed free dentistry out of my mastery of the mother tongue, why not hook up my autobike as well?
So last night I found myself with two nerdy college students, trying to cover the basics of conversation. We ate sam gyup sal (pork bbq) and drank soju. I then took them to a dong dong ju place where we drank bowl after bowl of rice wine, which is like getting kicked in the head by a steel toe boot. I then called Steve, who lives nearby, and he saved me from total boredom. After a while we sent the boys on their way and headed down to O'briens to play poker.
I was in two poker games and lost at both. I was playing drunk and loose, like always. I don't know why I ever play poker down there. I always lose and I'm usually surrounded by total wankers. Some of these fecal forms take themselves way too seriously - all stoic and cool - like they're at the final table in a Vegas tourney, instead of a shitty bar in an even shittier Asian city. So I staggered out of OB's twenty bucks down but glad to be rid of the company. It was then that I had the always brilliant three a.m. idea to go to the Casino. Usually I'm slapped around and molested there, but last night luck was on my side, and within twenty minutes I had made my $100, which is always my "walk out" goal. I ordered a beer and a sandwich (on the house, a-sah!), and enjoyed a moment of bleary contentment.
When I got home, I sipped from one of my thirty soju bottles, smoked like an Arab, and blagged on my blog.
Maybe I'll go to the gym today. Do they have a treadmill for my liver?
Damn. I got destroyed last night. How did this happen? I was supposed to go to the gym, come home and read and write. Somehow I got sidetracked.
I was sitting on the can, reading a short story, when I heard my phone buzzing in the other room. I ignored it, preferring to complete the sizzling curry kimchee ass task at hand. The buzzing stopped and then resumed a few seconds later. It was then that I remembered I had made an appointment to hang out with a couple of Korean University students. It's one of those situations that pop up often here. Last Saturday I took my motorbike into a mechanic on the other side of town. My footpegs were loose- they felt like they were about to fall off. The old mechanic fixed my bike and we proceeded to have a conversation in halting Korean. "Where are you from? Where do you work? Are you married?" - that sort of thing. When he found out that I was an English teacher he got all excited and rattled on about someone at another university and kept repeating the word "friend" to me, while pointing at some contact information he had written down.
"Chingu. Chingu."
When I went to pay, he told me it was "suh-bis-uh," which is Konglish for "service," which is their way of saying "free." But, like anything in life, it wasn't really free. He wanted my phone number, which I gave to him.
It turns out he wanted me to meet his son and become his son's "English buddy." I was told by his son, when he called me, that if I hung out with him and spoke English, that his dad would fix my bike for free when I needed it. What the Hell? I thought. I had already scammed free dentistry out of my mastery of the mother tongue, why not hook up my autobike as well?
So last night I found myself with two nerdy college students, trying to cover the basics of conversation. We ate sam gyup sal (pork bbq) and drank soju. I then took them to a dong dong ju place where we drank bowl after bowl of rice wine, which is like getting kicked in the head by a steel toe boot. I then called Steve, who lives nearby, and he saved me from total boredom. After a while we sent the boys on their way and headed down to O'briens to play poker.
I was in two poker games and lost at both. I was playing drunk and loose, like always. I don't know why I ever play poker down there. I always lose and I'm usually surrounded by total wankers. Some of these fecal forms take themselves way too seriously - all stoic and cool - like they're at the final table in a Vegas tourney, instead of a shitty bar in an even shittier Asian city. So I staggered out of OB's twenty bucks down but glad to be rid of the company. It was then that I had the always brilliant three a.m. idea to go to the Casino. Usually I'm slapped around and molested there, but last night luck was on my side, and within twenty minutes I had made my $100, which is always my "walk out" goal. I ordered a beer and a sandwich (on the house, a-sah!), and enjoyed a moment of bleary contentment.
When I got home, I sipped from one of my thirty soju bottles, smoked like an Arab, and blagged on my blog.
Maybe I'll go to the gym today. Do they have a treadmill for my liver?