The Weirdest Date of My Life

Dating for Kyopos out here can be a weird thing. If you’re fluent already then I’m sure there’s little trouble fitting in smoothly. And I’m guessing there’s some cultural differences you have to work out. In my case, where my Korean absolutely sucks AND I’m not very immersed in the culture, things can get very weird. 

During my first year in Korea, I was full of energy and excitement being in a new country. So I would do things I wouldn’t normally do in the States. Like go downstairs to the convenience store at the bottom of my apartment building to buy bottled water only to ask the 19-year-old clerk to go to the movies with me right after her shift ended in 3 hours.

I’ve seen this girl working at the convenience store a few times before. She’s very petite and cute. 

I grab my bottled water and go to the counter to pay. This time she instigates some small talk. 

“Are you from the U.S.?”

I do my best in my broken Korean. 

“Yes”, I reply.

“I’m Chinese”, she says.

“Oh really?” 

This leads her into a hysterical laughing fit. I have no idea why this is so funny. Why isn’t it a possibilty that a Chinese girl moved to Korea to work at a convenience store? Maybe she’s also a college student and working at the convenience store part-time. That’s not totally unusual is it?

Anyway, she had a really cute, adorable laugh. After a lengthy chat, my “being-in-a-new-country-enthusiastic-boldness” kicks in and it leads to “Hey, what are you doing tonight? I was gonna go to a movie later. Wanna come?” 

She says yes. We formally introduce ourselves and it turns out she has an English name, Esmerelda. Her old English teacher gave it to her. I don’t think I’ve ever met an Esmerelda in my life. 

I go up to my apartment thinking, “Man, she’s too young for me”, and didn’t think it would be a real date. Maybe more like just hanging out as friends. But who knows? May-December works in movies don’t it?

We go to the movies, then after it ends, she asks if I want to have a drink.

“Sure, what bar?”

“Let’s drink in the park.”

In Korea you can drink out in public. But I realize that a lot of teenagers hang out in the park she mentioned. This environment puts a “weird-perverted-old-man-providing-alcohol-to-minors” kinda vibe in my head, regardless of the fact that she’s enough to drink in Korea. Hey, it was her idea anyway!

We go to another convenience store and she buys a few fruit flavored wine coolers called KGB Vodka (We all know Russians know their Vodka. I guess if the KGB are involved it must be good. And a FRUIT FLAVORED WINE COOLER version only proves this!). 

So we’re sitting on a bench talking about this and that. I notice in the background, a group of teenage boys are sitting in the stands of a little basketball court behind us, hocking enough spit to fill the Exxon Valdez. 

She seems to laugh at every little joke I make. Man, what a laugh. 

At one point her phone rings.

“Hold on a sec”, she says. 

She gets up from the bench and suddenly BOLTS, running away like a fairy sans wings. She doesn’t stop running until she gets all the way to the other side of the park. She keeps going and going until she’s a small speck in my sight of vision. I find myself frozen staring at her. This is utterly weird and charming and funny and cute at the same time. 

A few moments later I see the tiny speck running back towards me. At the midpoint she slows it back down to a normal pace, I guess trying not to look like such a spaz (little does she know in her case spaz is GOOD). When she gets back to the bench she has a look in her eyes like she’s gonna crack up again. 

“Why did you run away?” 

“Oh, it was my dad.” 

“Was it a serious conversation?”

“No, he just makes me practice my Chinese. I get embarrassed because pronunciation’s so bad.” 

“Wait, are you actually Chinese?”

Hysterically laughing fit again. (Why is this so funny???)

A moment later her demeanor changes. She begins talking about her parents and how hard it is to live at home. That her parents treat her like a child and her older sister is always criticizing her. 

We down a few of these finely crafted, aged to perfection wine coolers and the ultra lightweight that I am, I start to feel a little buzz. I think she does too, since she’s talking about her personal life. I’m in my best good-listener mode. 

After a moment of silence, she begins the following exchange:

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Have you ever had sex before?” 

An 80s-sitcom-style massive spit take followed by laugh track would have totally fit here.

(Like this)

“I’m 33”, I say. 

“And?”, she says.

“Uh, of course I’ve had sex.” (I just took this question as “young-girl-living-in-a- relatively-conservative-country-naivety”. Or perhaps I actually look like a 33-year-old virgin! Not good.)

My slightly buzzed-ass has to take a moment to decipher why this question was asked, the timing of the question, and how I should react. Since she asked me this right after her little spew about her family problems, and that she agreed to go to a movie with someone she just met in the first place, I figured it was a sign to make a move! 

I turn and kiss her. We make out for a little while. As Borat would say “It was verrry niaaaace!”

A few moments later, she pulls her head back and says-

“I have to go.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry I have to go.” 

She begins scrambling all her stuff together. 

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m fine, I just have to go now.” 

“Ok…”

“Bye, sorry, bye.” 

She bolts across the park again, and this time the tiny speck makes a hard right turn and disappears. 

I’m left alone on the bench, with empty bottles of the powerful Russian secret police created hooch, and the endless sounds of teenage boys trying to flood the entire park with their flem. 

I walk back home and get a text from her. It’s long. I’m pretty sure it’s the longest text I’ve ever gotten in my life. But that’s immediately followed by three or four other Guinness-Book-of-World-Records-challenging texts. I’m reading endless text messages about how she can never see me again because she is still in love with her ex-boyfriend who left her for another girl and is studying in China and how she will get him back one day by moving to China and finding him and also apologizing for meeting me and for leaving so quickly and being rude and to take care and have a nice life. 

Ah, the intracacies of long term relationships!

She quit the convenience store, but I would see her walking around the neighborhood sometimes. She would always give me a huge smile and wave like nothing weird ever happened. After a while she just vanished off the planet. 

As I write this entry, the late, great Whitney Houston is playing over the cafe speakers…

“Bittersweet…memories…”

Wherever you are Esmerelda…

…know that someone is out there…

…someone that is thinking about a girl…

…a girl that thinks telling people she’s Chinese is the funniest thing in the history of all verbalized comedy…

…and likes to bolt across public parks for no apparent reason…

“And IIIIIIIIIIII will always love yooooooooooooooooooooooooooou….” 

Yes, Koreans Do the Asian Squat

Korean people, like the rest of their Asian counterparts, sure do love to squat. 

I’m assuming Asians squat because it rests their legs. But have you ever tried doing this for a prolonged period of time? Your legs just start BURNING. Why is this position comfortable for folks on one side of the globe, excruciating for those on the other? 

Sometimes I’ll be walking around Seoul and out of nowhere, an old man will be squatting in between two parked cars, smoking a cig. Wow, now that’s the pinnacle of relaxation. Fuck my sofa! I need to have two filthy car bumpers inches from my head as my legs feel like they’re being bathed in lava!

SCRIPT FOR A SHORT FILM:

FADE IN:

EXT. BEACH - DAY

Two KOREAN COUPLES, all in their 50s, walk over to a beach carrying bags, beach towels, and beach chairs. 

OLD MAN 1: Ah, ain’t this the life!

OLD WOMAN 1: So nice to finally get some vacation time!

OLD MAN 2: We can finally relax and get a break from work!

OLD WOMAN 2: Here’s a nice spot. Let’s put our stuff down.

The couples unfold their beach chairs and spread their towels over them. They place their the rest of their stuff on top of the towels. 

OLD WOMAN 2: Good thing we brought these chairs.

OLD WOMAN 1: Yeah, wouldn’t want to get any sand in our bags.

All FOUR PEOPLE then proceed to get into the ASIAN SQUAT.  

EVERYONE: Ahhhhhhh!!!!!!!!! 

OLD MAN 1: Ain’t this the life!!!!!

A few beats of “relaxation”.

FADE OUT. 

Ads in Korea

https://vimeo.com/43261086

I see White people…

A Weird Dude May Be Following Me

When I have to do busy work I go to cafes near my apartment. I’m one of those people that cannot do any work at home for whatever reason. So my baseball cap wearing, crappy LG Netbook using ass is constantly in one of the many cafes in my area. 

A couple of days ago I went to a chain called Cafe Pascucci and sat in the outdoor smoking area. Two tables down is a 40 year old man, hair slicked back with product, wearing sweat pants, sitting alone, smoking, with an ice coffee. He proceeds to let out one ultra-depressing, morbid sigh after another. About one every 3 minutes. In the States the ‘insane weirdo in a public place’ situation is a pretty common thing, especially if you’ve lived in NY or LA. In America we just ignore it and go about our daily lives. Here it’s pretty uncommon, so I’m getting pretty freaked out because I think he’s gonna pull out a gun any minute and start blasting away all the poor folks who just wanted to get a Cafe Mocha and chat about the latest episode of K Pop Superstar (one of the numerous singing competition shows out here). So I move inside by the front door, figuring I can at least dodge the first series of shots and jet like the UBER-PUSSY that I am. But 30 minutes later, he comes inside and sits two tables away from me again. And again, the utterly morose, ‘world is coming to an end’ sighing. There’s no way I can move again at this point, because then it’s obvious I’m creeped out by the guy, which may turn on the ‘insanity button’ in his head and really make him go postal. So I just pretend not to notice the sighing and continue with my writing. He does leave in a few minutes however. 

I’m now at a coffee shop across the street called Dalkomm, sitting in their outdoor smoking area and HERE’S THE DUDE AGAIN. He’s not sighing, but just staring out into space like a zombie. He’s got the same slicked back hair and sweat pants deal. But no ice coffee, just a cup of the free lemon flavored tap water they provide here. He walks by my table and I can FEEL HIM STARING AT ME, (possibly because he remembered me from two days ago?). I have to pretend not to notice him again, because I don’t want to have to make polite small talk with an insane person just to prevent the mindless stabbing of folks sipping on green tea lattes and wondering if they should get plastic surgery on their lower eyelids (it’s a thing out here). To my relief he leaves after about 20 minutes. A half an hour later he COMES BACK to the SAME table. He’s got ONE CHOCO PIE and is eating it and staring out into space again. He drops a crumb on the table then quickly makes it stick to his finger and vacuums it up into his mouth. DEE-lish!

There isn’t a more depressing sight then watching a dude bring ONE CHOCO PIE to a coffee shop to eat by himself. A choco pie can be downed in about 30 seconds. After you pay for it you can probably finish it and throw away the wrapper before your ass even leaves the convenience store. The fact that he brought it to the coffee shop means he WAITED to eat it SPECIFICALLY at the coffee shop. Meaning eating ONE CHOCO PIE is like SOMETHING TO DO. Like for example, some bring their laptop to write in their blog (like moi). Some might study for an exam or work on a school project. This guy comes to the coffee shop to eat ONE CHOCO PIE. Not even a BOX of choco pies. At least that’s like “I’m too cheap to buy the coffee shop desserts but I just want to chill and have a snack and pass the time so I’ll bring this box of choco pies instead”. It’s just ONE CHOCO PIE. This combined with his ‘all dressed up with nowhere to go ’ slick back hair is just an utterly depressing visual experience. 

If you hear about some crazy dude in the Gangnam area of Seoul chainsawing to death ice blended cappucino drinking folks talking about avoiding dinner for several weeks because of their ‘diet’ (it’s a thing out here) then…know that I’m okay. My pussy-ass moved near the front door…

Sounds Old People Make

I hesitated posting this entry because I don’t want to create any more negative stereotypes of Koreans/Asians than there already are. But this falls in line the blog’s humorous observation of cultural differences theme. Racist fucks that happen to read this and are obsessed with stereotyping shouldn’t make me censor myself. Korea is an amazing country with a tremendous economic future, an emphasis on education and infrastructure. As of this moment there are 6 subway lines or extensions being constructed. And none of them smell like urine! Take that racist foreigner! 

Onto the blog entry:

SUCKING ON TEETH

This is usually old men. I don’t know the rhyme or reason why this noise is made. One would assume it’s because food is stuck in the teeth. But when I hear on old man make this noise, it just seems to go on and on forever. I took the express bus from my neighborhood to the airport, about 30 minutes. The entire ride there, the bus driver made this noise non-stop, every 3 minutes minutes on cue. Either you just gotta give up and realize that piece of beef ain’t coming out, or wait until you get your hands on some modern marvel of technology, like the toothpick or dental floss!

But this is nowhere near as common as-

SNAPPING ON GUM

This is almost always old women. Sometimes you’ll ride the subway and, just like with the teeth sucking noise, it will just go on for the duration of your ride, 30 minutes or more. And since it continues after you get off, who knows how long this snapping session goes on for. I wonder what happens on a gum snapping old lady’s average day:

- Wake up, and still groggy with sleep, reach for gum. Snap! 

- Finish breakfast. Gum hidden in the back of the mouth. Snap!

- Take a shower. Snap! Snap!

- Go to work. Snap-mania!

- Evening power walk. Snap-snap-snap-a-roo!

- Go to bed. Put head down on pillow. Snap! Zzzzzzzzzzz.

But this is nowhere near as common as-

HOCKING LOOGIES

This is nothing short of a phenomenon here. It’s mostly old men, but a fair share of old women do this as well. People hock loogies at any place, any time, any situation. On the street. On the subway platform. On the bus. On the stairs. In hallways. In elevators. The public restroom is quite a popular place. An old man will get his flem wad ready about 5 steps before he hits the urinal, then splat a huge wad just before he takes a whiz. 

My subway stop is a mere 3 minute walk from my apartment but I almost always hear someone hocking before I hit the stairs. Then, inside the train, people are always making the hocking noise but not spitting. Hock and swallow it so it goes right back into your throat?! Can anyone tell me the point of this?!  I’ll lie in bed at night and just as I’m about to fall asleep, I’ll hear a loud hock from the alleyway 4 floors down. You can’t escape!

Just wanted to pleasantly share the top three loogie hocking moments of my two years here. BTW, all of these examples happened in a split second and my eyes just instinctively followed this stuff before my brain could tell me to look away or be scarred for eternity. 

3. Old man walks across me, begins hocking. He proceeds to, what looks like, CHEW on the loogie for a moment. Then slowly oozes out a line of flem from his mouth. Deee-li-shuss!

2. I get out of my apartment to go to work and of course withing a few steps a loogie hocker walks towards me. This guy had a crazy look in his eyes, like he may have just gotten out of the mental institution. Instead of the traditional hocking noise, he makes a noise that sounded a lot closer to THROWING UP. Then out comes a humongous flem glob. But the odd part was, he did not lower his head even a millimeter, his head was in the exact same upright position. And he didn’t even spit it, it just kinda falls out of his mouth. The glob was a centimeter away from his clothes, yet somehow managed to avoid touching anything. This guy either didn’t care if flem splattered all over his clothes, or was such a spitting expert that he knew the bare minimum amount of effort needed to clear his jeans! Scrump-shuss!

1. Walking to Yonsei University in the morning for my Korean class. There’s a 4-way crosswalk. I’m coming across one diagonal crosswalk, a dude in the other. We’re walking and about to hit the center at the same time. Right as he walks past me, he hocks a giant loogie. I look down and see the BIGGEST PILE OF FLEM IN HUMAN HISTORY. It was literally a COUPLE OF INCHES OFF THE GROUND. Not just a splatty wad of spit, it was visible mounds of greenish-brown. I felt the barf rise up in the back of my throat, quickly looked away and tried to block the image out of my mind just so I could keep my food down. I don’t know what kind of demonic virus this dude must’ve had, but the pile was so big part of me thinks he may have been just saving that shit up so he could make a huge pile of flem intentionally. Ah, it’s good to have a hobby! De-lec-tuh-bull! (BTW, had a brain fart and couldn’t think of a mere 2nd synonym for ‘delicious’. Thanks Thesaurus.com!) 

Getting Hammered

I am a lightweight.

2 drinks and I feel a buzz. 3 and my whole body turns red and I turn into a circus clown trying to make everyone around me laugh. 

Being a lightweight is not good for a prolonged stay in Korea. I’m a conservative drinker and have puked from drinking just twice in my life. Both times it was a mixture of alcohol and motion sickness (train, cab, NOT PRETTY). In my 2 years in Korea I’ve matched that total (stories below) and NEITHER time involved motion sickness. In Korea you drink, drink, and drink some more. It’s just a big part of life out here. 

According to Wikipedia, Korea ranks 14th in per capita alcohol consumption. In comparison, the U.S. is 57th and Japan is 70th. (for those keeping score, #1 is Moldovia. Oh, those drunken lunatic Moldovians!). Common sights every weekend (AND weekdays) include girls who can BARELY STAND being helped home by a pair of jolly friends. Guys in business suits wobbling through the streets, shit talking talking the crap outta each other. And people TOTALLY PASSED OUT on the SIDEWALK, completely alone, NO ONE HELPING THEM. (For further proof, check out this link: http://blackoutkorea.blogspot.com/)

One night I saw a well-dressed woman completely passed out at the top of the subway station escalator. Oddly, her heels were perfectly aligned right next to her. Either a passerby thought it was a kind gesture (oh, how about, I don’t know, GETTING SOME HELP?!) or the woman had the bearings to arrange them herself before her asphalt siesta. Keep it classy San Diego!!!

For those unfamiliar, the usual drink of choice is SOJU, the most revolting concoction in the history of the human existence. It pretty much tastes like what one would think rubbing alcohol would. Even if you have a chaser a centimeter away from your lips, it’s still a complete and utter struggle to make that nasty shit slide down your throat. But that’s partly because of my puss-tastic alcohol tolerance. The natives drink soju like it’s water. In fact, sometimes it’s actually CHEAPER! Soju can get as low as 1,000 Korean won (about 1 U.S. dollar!).

Anyway, onto my two drinking stories. Again, I’m a total lightweight so these are not your black-out, hanging from a tree butt-naked, Justin Bieber’s smiling face newly tattooed on your ass, type of drinking stories, but more of the mildly amusing sort…

One night I decide to go drink with my co-workers on a weekday night. At the time I was working at an academy teaching English in the evenings and studying Korean at Yonsei University for 4 hours each morning. My schedule was insane, and I felt like I should have one night to have a little fun. But I brought my textbook with me to the bar to study for the next day’s quiz, which my co-workers wouldn’t stop ripping on me for. Whatever, I know an entire list of college science majors in Korean, so back off! (to this day I still haven’t used any of them!)

But it actually worked in my favor as a cute white chick used it as an ice breaker and asked me why I was studying at a bar. In a few moments I put the book away in my bag and tried to connect with the girl instead. My co-workers kept handing me one shot of soju after another. I have never blacked out in my life, but there were parts of that night that don’t exist in my brain so I must’ve drank A LOT of soju.

I remember ending up at the girl’s place somehow, but we both just passed out. After a little bit, I got up to go puke in the bathroom. But inexplicably, I went for the sink instead of the toilet. After I hurled, I stood in front of that sink for what felt like an eternity trying to get all the puke to go down the drain. I remember seeing what looked like an unusually large RED PEPPER FLAKE floating in the mix of puke and water. I eventually get it all down the drain and passed out again.

The next week I ended up hanging out at her place again. I get up to go use the bathroom and she says something to the effect of “By the way, my sink drain hasn’t been working too well lately. I have no idea why”. I did! :) 

A few months later I get a new co-worker, a Korean dude that spent some years growing up in Australia. No soju this time as we only drink beer, but the tab is well over $100. It’s about $5 a bottle so I must’ve drank at least 10 beers. Again, I normally get drunk over 3 beers. So I’m HAMMERED. I’m ‘THREE SHEETS TO THE WIND’. I’m at ‘DEFCON 1’. I’m ‘ANIAHALATED’ (thanks Urban Dictionary! I can’t believe the latter is an actual term!). Well it turns out my co-worker’s a huge pimp and manages to convince two hot bartenders to go to ANOTHER BAR with us after their SHIFT ENDS. 

We go to the 2nd bar and in a few moments I breezily glide over to the bathroom and proceed to PUKE MY BRAINS OUT. I return to see my co-worker getting the girls to play these little drinking games where the “punishment” is not only do you have to take a shot, but a girl has to pick a guy to make out with and vice versa.

Without hesitation, my freshly vomit coated tongue is trying it’s best to find the back of the hot bartenders’ throats. Hope I didn’t leave an unusually large RED PEPPER FLAKE down one of them!

Needless to say, a TERRIFIC NIGHT!!!!

Waiting in Line

Among the many cultural differences in Korea, one that sticks out is the simple act of waiting in-line. 

Basically if you’re not JAMMING IT UP THE ASS of the person in front of you someone will CUT YOU IN LINE.

I remember the time when I first started to notice this, I was at a crowded McDonald’s on a Saturday afternoon, filled with children and families. A woman just zips right in front of me and orders an ice cream cone. Now, it wasn’t like a few feet back where it was a possibility that I could have been just staring at the menu. I was one person back, close enough to show that I was clearly waiting in line, at least by the standards I know.

But the woman just zips in front of me and orders, not bothering to check if I was about to order myself. I then decided to see if I just stayed in the same spot how many other people would cut me as well. To my own quiet amusement, about five other groups cut me in line. Not a single person (nor the counterperson) asking if I was waiting to order. 

What could I possibly have been standing there for? Perhaps I was waiting for the messiah of all fast food mascots himself, Ronald McDonald to make one of his surprise in-store appearances? Just show up at lunch time on a Saturday, stand in the middle of the store, hope for the miracle of all miracles. What a huge jip it would be if that fat fuck Grimace showed up instead. A swift kick to his purple testicles would wipe that smile off his face! 

Maybe I’m a vegan that desperately misses the taste of Big Macs and standing in the middle of McDonald’s and getting second-hand whiffs is all the fix I need to make me jizz in my pants?

Could I have been stalking one of the counter girls? They look mighty attractive in them uniforms. Damn those ball caps! Accessories always complete an outfit!

Anyway, the most obvious reason someone would be standing near the counter of a McDonald’s would be to order a goddamn-HEARTY-and-DELICIOUS-mega-UNHEALTHY-mild-STOMACHACHE-inducing meal! 

Another time, I was at the snack counter at the movies, but this time, I wasn’t testing anything. I swear I took my eyes off the line for like a second (probably checking out some hot chick), when an old man just swoops in front of me. Here, clearly I wasn’t looking at the menu (damn, Korean chicks sure do love booty shorts!). But again, you snooze, you lose. 

I finally get to the counter in the girl tells me that someone has been closed.! Ugh! I glanced over to the other line and there are THREE PEOPLE WAITING. Unbelievable. 

I get on this line and here’s where I began my strategy of butt-fucking the guy ahead of me. I’m still looking off to the side but now it’s to fend off the fuckers that are trying to cut me left and right. Soon, two people of the three are done, the third at the counter. I’m in a lousy mood because it’s taking 15 years to get some goddamn Junior Mints. Suddenly, I hear in Korean. “Next person in line!” The line that they closed off 10 minutes ago suddenly opens up again! 27 years for a box of Jujubees! Amazing!

Lesson learned. So if you’re ever in Korea, you know what to do to avoid line cutters. 

Just remember as a common courtesy to give a reach around.