uijeongbu, South korea
** A lot of characters in the following stories are real and their names have not been changed so that they may continually endure any embarrassment. The stories themselves, of course, are somewhat…well mostly fictionalized. **
Uijeongbu and the Misunderstanding
It was 2:45 am and the only people in this dive were Ed and me. If that’s not bad enough, the bartender’s name is Joey. No shit, Joey. I called him Mr. Bishop a lot, although he didn’t like that, so now I’m questioning the purity of our drinks. That is, the possible existence of foreign saliva. However, I guess in this case, we’re the foreigners, so local saliva? I also think Joey didn’t like the way Ed consistently mispronounced “Geonbae”. Come on, Ed! How hard can it be? Here in Uijeongbu, South Korea, “geonbae” means “cheers,” but to Joey, I think it meant “I’ll have another before I skip out on the check” which was never our intention, but somehow the consequence of unexpected occurrences.
The bar had really emptied out an hour earlier when I made my boisterous pronouncement to all, “Yeogiseo gwihaui ijeon jusoleul chajgo issseubnida!”
Ed suspects that I didn’t pronounce that Korean toast very well. Perhaps the crowd’s reaction of projectile bar nuts was a clue, one which Joey had to clean up (loogie number 1… fire).
I thought the bar nut throwing critics were just jealous of my Colonel Blake fishing hat. It was a stunning replica and yes, I cut my finger on it many times while saluting Joey… who didn’t like that either… the saluting part (loogie number 2… fire).
Joey did smile, ever so slightly, at my self-inflicted injuries though. Why I repeatedly cut myself must have seemed peculiar, but I think mysterious is a better descriptor. Ed more accurately proclaimed the action as self-inflicted-stupidity due to fan-based-alcoholism.
Yada, yada, yada, the top of the hour and the reason we were there approached. At 3 am we incorrectly celebrated the America-centric, socially-approved 5pm drinking time at home, when in fact the converse was true, as the now surprisingly durable travel coaster so obviously states. However, you know, drinking clouds the facts. Ed says that it's the seed of creativity. I don’t enjoy gardening, but I’ll drink to that anyway.
And yes, we both travel with the coaster. Don’t judge us. Unfortunately, Joey did judge us, and in hindsight, he was right to use violence. 3 am was quitting time, the time Joey’s sister walks in to give him a ride. She’s very prompt. At the moment she walked in, I was looking at the countdown timer ending and proclaimed very loudly, “Set ‘em up Joe!” But Joey heard it as, “Set him up, Joe!”
One black eye later, I still swear that I didn’t see her enter and never implied that Joey was a pimp.
The bar had really emptied out an hour earlier when I made my boisterous pronouncement to all, “Yeogiseo gwihaui ijeon jusoleul chajgo issseubnida!”
Ed suspects that I didn’t pronounce that Korean toast very well. Perhaps the crowd’s reaction of projectile bar nuts was a clue, one which Joey had to clean up (loogie number 1… fire).
I thought the bar nut throwing critics were just jealous of my Colonel Blake fishing hat. It was a stunning replica and yes, I cut my finger on it many times while saluting Joey… who didn’t like that either… the saluting part (loogie number 2… fire).
Joey did smile, ever so slightly, at my self-inflicted injuries though. Why I repeatedly cut myself must have seemed peculiar, but I think mysterious is a better descriptor. Ed more accurately proclaimed the action as self-inflicted-stupidity due to fan-based-alcoholism.
Yada, yada, yada, the top of the hour and the reason we were there approached. At 3 am we incorrectly celebrated the America-centric, socially-approved 5pm drinking time at home, when in fact the converse was true, as the now surprisingly durable travel coaster so obviously states. However, you know, drinking clouds the facts. Ed says that it's the seed of creativity. I don’t enjoy gardening, but I’ll drink to that anyway.
And yes, we both travel with the coaster. Don’t judge us. Unfortunately, Joey did judge us, and in hindsight, he was right to use violence. 3 am was quitting time, the time Joey’s sister walks in to give him a ride. She’s very prompt. At the moment she walked in, I was looking at the countdown timer ending and proclaimed very loudly, “Set ‘em up Joe!” But Joey heard it as, “Set him up, Joe!”
One black eye later, I still swear that I didn’t see her enter and never implied that Joey was a pimp.
HoursAlways working
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TelephoneWho phones?
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