Another eventful weekend in Seoul.
On Friday, I accompanied my good friend down to Itaewon. He had a doctor's appointment in the middle of the afternoon so I chummed him down. He went to the doctor and got his ailment looke at. We had a browse around the shops and a wee wander, had a coffee etc. Then we decided to go shoot his pool. At this point we had our first drink. Around six in the evening I think. I did not stop drinking till six in the morning. Needless to say I woke up with a hangover the next morning. However, bizarrely, I was not nearly as hungover as I have been. In the midst of the evening however we went for some Thai food. Although I have eaten quite a few Thai curries in my time, I have never actually a visited a Thai restaurant. It was delicious and I am definitely interested in returning for some grub.
Anyway, I got through work at the asylum on Saturday and I was invited to a birthday party. I work with a gentleman by the name of Davd Kimel at Asylum B and he has connections out here. I was not especially keen as I both knackered and skint. (To clarify the skint point, I had plenty of money in the bank, but no cashcard to get it at the moment.) However, after a bit of cajoling I agreed to come and pop my head in the door.
However, this was no ordinary birthday party. Oh no. The birthday boy was a gentleman by the name of Kent Kim. Kent was a character alright and on a few occasions on the night I wished he was fictional. The venue was the Presidential Suite of the Grand Interncontinental Hotel and this place was pimping. Lavish living room with large couches, a kitchen, a big bid and some bathroom. It was a jacuzzi tub, in which you could lie down and watch the built in TV. When I walked I expected to see P Diddy lying in there with some Chirstal and friends. This place was the schnizzle, my jizzle. (Outside it was raining, a bit of a drizzle.)
When we arrived, the birthday boy was drunk. Now when I say drunk, I mean schnozzled, hammered, lambuscoed. I mean rugby club dinner drunk, Mike Watson setting fire to the curtains drunk. He was warming a loudly patterned Armani shirt, nearly open, last sported by Tony Montana as he invited people to come and meet his little friend. He warmly embraced David and Scott, the guys I was with. "My brothers, you are all my brothers." His next command was: "Bend over all of you, I want to penetrate all of you." (I really was reminded of rugby club drunkeness at this point.) He continued more drunken rambling in this vein until he commanded someone to touch his nipple. Guess who the lucky nipple toucher was?
Being a sport, I did not entirely want to leap out the window whilst I indulged in this jape. I also fairly quickly managed to get out of this nimcompoopery with a line about nipple touching being outlawed under the terms of visa. Harf, harf. Kent continued his drunken rampage as I began to settle into more standard party behaviour. At least kind of.
The rest of the evening was extraordinaly interesting. The place was filled with various important types from amongst the Korean hagwon sector, and huge amounts of networking went down. Generally, people were not particularly interested in speaking to me. (What else is new?) No, but seriously folks. The impact of being a foriegner and not being American really, really came across in this social setting. Over the course of the evening, these barriers were broken down by irrestible social charm and the fact that the two Harvard boys kept laughing at my jokes. At least I think they were laughing with me rather than at me...
As the night drew on events took on further bizarre twists. I was a colleague called Valicia who many of the Koreans took a fancy to. Their attempts to woo her resembled those of neanderthal men as they engaged in push up contests and generally flexed their guns. At one point they actually tried to pick her up and carry her off.
In the end I just ended up sleeping on a sofa in the suite. I woke up to the full devastation of a night's partying, in a lavish suite, and with a view from the twenty ninth floor to gaze out. I felt like a rolling stone, or at least a stones roadie anyway.
On Friday, I accompanied my good friend down to Itaewon. He had a doctor's appointment in the middle of the afternoon so I chummed him down. He went to the doctor and got his ailment looke at. We had a browse around the shops and a wee wander, had a coffee etc. Then we decided to go shoot his pool. At this point we had our first drink. Around six in the evening I think. I did not stop drinking till six in the morning. Needless to say I woke up with a hangover the next morning. However, bizarrely, I was not nearly as hungover as I have been. In the midst of the evening however we went for some Thai food. Although I have eaten quite a few Thai curries in my time, I have never actually a visited a Thai restaurant. It was delicious and I am definitely interested in returning for some grub.
Anyway, I got through work at the asylum on Saturday and I was invited to a birthday party. I work with a gentleman by the name of Davd Kimel at Asylum B and he has connections out here. I was not especially keen as I both knackered and skint. (To clarify the skint point, I had plenty of money in the bank, but no cashcard to get it at the moment.) However, after a bit of cajoling I agreed to come and pop my head in the door.
However, this was no ordinary birthday party. Oh no. The birthday boy was a gentleman by the name of Kent Kim. Kent was a character alright and on a few occasions on the night I wished he was fictional. The venue was the Presidential Suite of the Grand Interncontinental Hotel and this place was pimping. Lavish living room with large couches, a kitchen, a big bid and some bathroom. It was a jacuzzi tub, in which you could lie down and watch the built in TV. When I walked I expected to see P Diddy lying in there with some Chirstal and friends. This place was the schnizzle, my jizzle. (Outside it was raining, a bit of a drizzle.)
When we arrived, the birthday boy was drunk. Now when I say drunk, I mean schnozzled, hammered, lambuscoed. I mean rugby club dinner drunk, Mike Watson setting fire to the curtains drunk. He was warming a loudly patterned Armani shirt, nearly open, last sported by Tony Montana as he invited people to come and meet his little friend. He warmly embraced David and Scott, the guys I was with. "My brothers, you are all my brothers." His next command was: "Bend over all of you, I want to penetrate all of you." (I really was reminded of rugby club drunkeness at this point.) He continued more drunken rambling in this vein until he commanded someone to touch his nipple. Guess who the lucky nipple toucher was?
Being a sport, I did not entirely want to leap out the window whilst I indulged in this jape. I also fairly quickly managed to get out of this nimcompoopery with a line about nipple touching being outlawed under the terms of visa. Harf, harf. Kent continued his drunken rampage as I began to settle into more standard party behaviour. At least kind of.
The rest of the evening was extraordinaly interesting. The place was filled with various important types from amongst the Korean hagwon sector, and huge amounts of networking went down. Generally, people were not particularly interested in speaking to me. (What else is new?) No, but seriously folks. The impact of being a foriegner and not being American really, really came across in this social setting. Over the course of the evening, these barriers were broken down by irrestible social charm and the fact that the two Harvard boys kept laughing at my jokes. At least I think they were laughing with me rather than at me...
As the night drew on events took on further bizarre twists. I was a colleague called Valicia who many of the Koreans took a fancy to. Their attempts to woo her resembled those of neanderthal men as they engaged in push up contests and generally flexed their guns. At one point they actually tried to pick her up and carry her off.
In the end I just ended up sleeping on a sofa in the suite. I woke up to the full devastation of a night's partying, in a lavish suite, and with a view from the twenty ninth floor to gaze out. I felt like a rolling stone, or at least a stones roadie anyway.
posted by Special_K at 12:04 AM
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