Burberry Man update, stockings and bondage.

That title is totally sensational. Sorry.

Just to update everyone on the situation from this weekend:

This morning as soon as I got to school, I informed my co-teachers of what had happened. They were horrified. One immediately got all the details off me and got on the phone with the local police, while the other, without even asking me, ran down to ask the VP if it would be possible to move me into another apartment. Some of the male teachers overheard about the situation, and offered to work out a schedule amongst themselves to drive and walk me home this week, just to be on the safe side. One in particular who lives in the area even provided his phone number, in case I need a ride home at an irregular hour from the bus or the train.

You see why I don't want to ever leave my school? As vulnerable as I felt yesterday morning when I finally got into my apartment and realized that I have no one -- absolutely no one -- nearby to phone in this situation, they made me feel one hundred percent better.

When my one co got off the phone with the police, she told me they've been getting reports already about what sounds to be the same guy. Apparently, they had even been in pursuit, but he had managed to run away at the last minute. So, as horrible as that is, it's nice to at least know that this wasn't a targeted attack (I knew already, pretty much, that it wasn't) and was just a situation of bad luck. Honestly, although the encounter itself shook me up a lot worse this time, because of how close it was to both my home and to getting physical, the last time was even worse in the long run, because that guy targeted me specifically and seemed to have worked out an entire plan. He was also sober. A random drunk guy is a lot easier for me to stomach than some psychopath who's acting in his 'right' mind and has a game plan. That messed with my head for weeks.

My co's also informed me today that apparently there is a female version of the burberry man (the Korean expression for a male flasher, for the idea of him wearing a trench coat with nothing on underneath). The female equivalent is called "wonder woman", is usually in her mid 30s, and can be spotted pulling open her shirt in front of all boys' high schools. That is fucking weird. Not because flashing is genentically determined by sex, but just because of the culture surrounding it. And because you don't hear of that kind of thing in the West very often. Both cultures sort of condone (or at least excuse) that kind of behavior out of men, by various arguments about inherent sexuality and perversion (which I obviously don't subscribe t0). Even though female flashing is common enough in a kind of Marti Gras sense in the West, I don't think I've ever heard one story of a woman exposing herself in a school yard. It's even more bizarre (or, perhaps, expected?) that it's happening in Korea, of all places. Going to have to look into that.

On the banal side of things, I got a run in my stockings at work today and my entire female co-working staff were entirely sympathetic to letting me run out to the shops during the week day to grab a replacement pair. Which is so fucking Korean. For some reason, I felt a little timid about having to buy them from the young guy behind the counter at the new 7-11. Of course, he didn't give me a bag, and I had to walk all the way back to school clutching them against my coat. I don't know what the deal was -- it's not like I was carrying around a pair of underwear or something. But it was still awkward. A bunch of my second graders were gathered near the gates when I went out, and must have seen the run when I stopped to get on to one of them for shouting "sexy girl", which is not something my second graders should be doing at all anymore. I pointed to one of the school disciplinary department teachers, who was guarding the main gate, and asked if he wanted to go over and tell him what he had just said to me. Profuse apologies.

Unfortunately for him, I think the other teacher caught the gist of what had happened anyway. I didn't stick around to see the results, but they were both gone when I got back. The rest of the students were still there, though, and as they glanced at what I had in my hands, they turned to each other and started to discuss how it was alright -- I had taken care of the situation. I thrust the package behind my back, but they had already started shouting "new stocking!" and applauding my effort by that point. Sometimes I don't even know what is or isn't appropriate anymore.

Speaking of that. Some of my first graders informed me that I was wearing a "fuck" bracelet today. They weren't trying to be bad. I wear a plain, thick leather band on my wrist most days, and they had read somewhere on the internet that bracelets like that are somehow related to sex. I wasn't sure how specific their knowledge in the area was -- they wouldn't have been able to make that clear, as they don't know the relative vocabulary in English (although they've shocked me in that area before) and I definitely don't know the vocabulary in Korean. They had the idea that I was unaware of this context, and should be informed. They honestly weren't being cheeky -- they were worried. They're right that this kind of thing has its beginnings based in bondage, but I wasn't about to admit to knowing that. Definitely classed as 'inappropriate'. In my, and probably everyone else's, mind. I just wonder if they're also aware of what the masks TOP is prone to wearing on occasion, and featuring on the women in his videos, are, exactly. I know they're meant to be "bousouzoku" but.... they're not, exactly.

Just saying.


Tiffani said...

....that picture is hot. <3

Korean-American said...

Glad to see your problem shift from psychopath to stockings.

I think your students give you a good run for the money when it comes to being funny. Not as articulate, but hilarious nevertheless. Fantastic.

Amanda said...

Your coworkers are amazing. Simply amazing.

My word verification is "abortsfu," which is too odd not to mention.

I'm no Picasso said...

Amanda -- Yes. Yes, they are. And I was completely floored at how sympathetic and helpful and worried they all were. They really do take excellent care of me. I'm damn lucky. And that is an odd word. Is it real? What does it mean? Off to google....