10.25.2008

Marx was just a motherfucker.

I've been writing about the weekdays but it's all pretty long and rambling... I'll pare it down and put it up next weekend maybe. Plus for some reason Mike's computer won't let me paste anything. I guess I shouldn't complain, even though it is a Mac..... Ahem. As for today, it was too much not to cover, and since I'm at Mike's, I'll take advantage of the chance to mention it.

Okay. So we went to Itaewon. I'm a little ashamed, but it was a rough a week and to be fair, our main motive was to find What the Book?, an English language used bookshop. I'm proud to report I did make it into Seoul all on my own on Thursday night (in the rain) to Kyobo to pick up some textbooks for my parents' class. 

Anyway. So we saw a sign for an all American diner and couldn't resist. It wasn't really a diner, but it was close enough. And I did have a cup of coffee and a cigarette right at the table. When we went back out to try to find the bookstore, a fucking monsoon blew in from nowhere. We wandered up and down but the map was just too confusing, and the streets to crowded and absolutely everything was too wet. The sky cracked with lightening and we found ourselves huddled under my umbrella on a street corner completely and utterly helpless. We both lit cigarettes just to have something to do. "Fuck it," I said. "Let's just go into that pub." 

We hustled up the stairs, shaking off as much water as we could. When we walked in, I immediately knew it wasn't a place I was supposed to be. The place was swarming with all middle aged Western men, every other one with a young, beautiful Korean woman on his arm. Fuck it. We're here. There's Guinness on tap. It's dry. And we can smoke. We ordered our drink and grabbed a couple of stools in the corner. 

Well. Who knows me? Yeah. So of course, an excessively inebriated Irish man materialized and immediately drew us into an animated and coarse conversation. Eventually his previous victim, an American solider, was drawn into the conversation as well. And you know what? It was a good chat. Brandon (the Irish guy) was trying to tell me that Marx was just a motherfucker, although I seriously doubt he's ever read a word of his work, and that Westerners were just trying to "spread the good word of democracy." 

"Imperialism, you mean." 

Eventually this course of conversation and my various responses led to the question, "Are you a feminist?"

"Is that a trick question?" 

"No. I'm a feminist. I prefer the company of men, but I love shagging women." 

We stayed for a couple of pints and I was considering one more, until I took a trip to the unisex bathroom, where Brandon also happened to be. When I came out of my stall he was stood at the sink with his pants undone examining himself in the mirror. "I look fucking great! I've lost loads of weight. I'm really happy about this. Can I kiss you?" 

I'm afraid that was a big fat no. I may not be the classiest woman alive, but you've really got to draw the line somewhere. 

So I left Brandon there in the bathroom and went back to the table to tell Mike I thought it was probably time we should be going. Luckily, Brandon followed me back and gave Mike a big kiss instead! 

Anyway, the rain was worth it. 

More about the job and actual life here soon. 


3 comments:

R.E.II said...

interesting blog...how do you like your coffee, if I may ask? I'm curious and hope one can find the way back here...

Tuttle said...

Seoul Pub or Nashville?

likethenina said...

I bet he has never read any of them.

Anyhow, I was so surprised that you did make that trip to Kyobo. Brilliant.

Glad to hear you