Wednesday, November 19

Pinkie toes

As I was trying to catch a ride home from school yesterday, someone told me that the biology teacher would take us out to dinner because he'd made some strange promise that he'd treat us to a meal for the year's first snow. I'm still confused about all that because it didn't start snowing for another 2 hours. How did he know? And was he trying to bet against the undeniable odds that it would snow this year? He took us to eat beef soup at a restaurant in Dujeong-Dong. And he got drunk really fast. We were drinking creamy rice wine called "mah-kuh-lee" out of soup bowls. The stuff is so good. They usually drink it when it's raining but snow is close enough. We started eating and the waitresses came by and put a live octopus in our each of our boiling pots of soup. When they stopped wriggling, the women came back and cut them to little pieces with kitchen shears. I had never seen this before and nearly got lost in a fit of manic laughter. It started snowing outside. The biology teacher was ranting. He loves for people to listen to him talk. Through a translator, he told me that Koreans have two nails on their pinkie toes and took his shoes and socks off to prove it. They're evolving! He also gave me a somewhat scientific explanation for fan death that I was too drunk to commit to memory. I remember laughing at the way that some of the teachers were talking to eachother although I had no idea what they were saying. I do this often. This made me realize that I have developed impressions of some teachers' personalities based solely on the way I feel when I listen to them speak. I started wondering which teachers I would hate if I could understand Korean. It stopped snowing and everything was white. The Koreans of course didn't give a damn but it made me want to call my mom and hug strangers. When I got home I had a note on my door from my neighbor. I'd gone out with the teachers and missed his birthday dinner:


I felt bad for missing the dinner. He'd reminded me several times. But really, who apologizes after being fucked over? It's like he's saying "Sorry that you stole my girlfriend." I can't tell if he was going for subtle passive aggression and blew it or if he's just a dick.

1 comment:

jesse said...

kind of like that dude with spikey hair that left me an anonymous note telling me that i smell bad, when really he talks about how big his dick is and how his wife is down to fuck whenevs. that was like six months ago. i can't believe i'm still tripping on that.