Monday night was the first time I’ve been kissed, on the mouth, by a man who wasn’t my boyfriend in nearly three and half years. Now before you start thinking what a floozy I am, allow me to explain.
In search of a quiet and relaxing evening on Monday, we decided to venture out for some Korean BBQ in our neighborhood. Neither of us felt like cooking and we thought the large bowl of spicy soup would help us with the colds we’ve been battling. We are the only non-Korean residents in our neighborhood, so each time we dine out we always get a few stares and we sometimes get freebies sent our way.
It all started with a bottle of coke. While quietly enjoying our meal, the waitress interrupted us to place a bottle of coke on our table. She signaled that is was from the two gentlemen sitting next to us. Minding our manners, we said thank you and began enjoying the fizzy beverage right away. After a few sips the gentlemen interrupted us and asked us if we like soju (it’s similar to vodka, but not as strong). We responded yes, and next thing I knew the man, let’s call him Mr. Kim from now on, was standing at our table pouring each of us a shot of soju. As is custom, you pour for the person who pours for you, so we reciprocated the gesture. Mr. Kim said thank you and went back to his table, but left us the remaining bottle of soju. In order to be polite we offered Mr. Kim more of his soju, but custom kicked in and he was pouring us two more shots. Eric and I were feeling the bite of the alcohol, but continued to eat our meal. Next thing we knew a new, full bottle of soju was placed on our table and we ended up splitting this with Mr. Kim and his brother. Just so we are all clear, Eric and I have now had SIX shots of soju each!
Dinner wrapped up and following us out the door was Mr. Kim and his brother. They wanted to treat us to a beer. Now what you all at home don’t realize is refusing anything in Korea is EXTREMELY rude, especially since we already accepted everything else. We were stuck going. So we found ourselves at the local pub, on a Monday at 7:30, drinking our way through two very large (30000 cc to be exact) pitchers of beer. All the while Mr. Kim and his brothers are trying to speaking English to us, but none of them speak English and we don’t speak Korean. Basically we are all yelling at each other and gesturing with our hands like Italians on mass amounts of sugar.
Eric and I had to draw a line. That line was a plate of fried chicken (keep in mind we already ate), two large pitchers of beer, and the clock striking 9:30. After an extensive set of charades in which we finally conveyed we were sick and we needed to wake up early for work the next day, they finally let us go. However, being a ‘gentleman’, Mr. Kim decided to walk Eric and I home. For the entire two block walk, Mr. Kim had Eric and me both securely under his heavy arms, causing me to slouch from the force. We soon found ourselves at the base of our hill and we signaled that this was us. After a bunch of Korean we didn’t understand, it happened.
His half open mouth found itself pressed against Eric’s face. With stealth-like speed, especially for a drunk person, Mr. Kim quickly landed his parted, moistened lips on the left half of my mouth. Now I don’t know about you, but that was a little forward for a first goodbye. We immediately jerked away, said goodbye and ran up our hill.
Tuesday morning I woke up with a hangover, a bad belly, and the hilarious and horrific memories of the night before. Oh Korea, you are so dynamic!
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