Living in Wonju South Korea, These Many Long Years

Living in Wonju South Korea, These Many Long Years: Version 2.0!

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Dirty Bird Calleth!

Early last night I received a call from Dirty Bird:

"Dude!  What happennnnniiiing??!  Come on you've got to come out tonight I've met a couple of chicks and I need someone kinda respectable to be my wing man!"


". . . "


"Come on, it'll be fun!  They're from one of my classes and I need to impress! They'll probably go home early and then we can tie one on!  Don't give me that I'm going camping or I've got kindergarten shit!  Get out of your little box and have some fun!"

Feeling somewhat in need of getting out, I acquiesce.  It's true I haven't gone out and 'tied one on' in the Wonj in some time, and I have been feeling out of whack.  Maybe a night with Dirty Bird would do me some good.

Besides, I know he'll keep calling every weekend until I finally give in.  If anything, he's persistent, like a dog that will not let go of that bone until it finds something better to gnaw on.  If I go out this weekend I should be in the clear for some time.

We meet up at Shiva the hookah bar at a little after eight.  The place is pretty quiet, and I'm surprised to see the women Dirty Bird has somehow conned into showing up are quite a bit above the quality I've come to expect seen associating with him.  I almost fall over when I see the way he's dressed: usually the type for baggy shorts with lots of pockets, t-shirts that bear some slogan and are invariably stained, ball caps and sneakers, Dirty Bird is wearing dockers, a collared shirt, dress shoes.  I'm feeling a little under dressed.

He smirks, as if knowing what's going through my mind.  He introduces the two women.  They are both nurses, late 20s, attractive. 

I'm surprised at just how much of a gentleman Dirty Bird is, and think he must finally have turned over a new leaf.  Usually he's gruff, abrupt, goes for the funny comment over the smart play, antagonistic.  Tonight he's nearly as smooth as silk.

A good time is had by all.  The girls bow out at around midnight as they both live with their parents.  Pretty typical stuff, we escort them to taxis and bid them goodnight.

As the taxis disappear, I turn to Dirty Bird to compliment him on his changes.  Before I can say a word, he blurts:

"Goddamn I'm glad that's over, what a drag!  Talk about a couple of killjoys!  I wanted to gouge my eyes out when she went on about her dog needing eye drops every four hours and only drinking warm spring water!  Come on, lets go meet some real women!"

Those last two looked pretty good to me, although I wasn't the one who had to have a conversation about eye drops and spring water;  I talked mostly of jazz, travel, the universe and everything.

But I know I'm locked in.  Gauntlet thrown, I follow.

We head straight for a seedy part of town and some low end room salon, the kind that hasn't changed at all since the 70s.  The woman looks about fifty and seems to know Dirty Bird well.  She immediately calls up another for me, and the girl that walks in the door looks as if she may be related to Jang Mi-Ran.  She sits down and immediately begins to fondle my balls in a very indelicate manner.  I pick up her hand and put it on her knee, and the look she gives me suggests she is contemplating cracking my head like a walnut.  I just smile.

Let's have some beer!  Woo, dude, you should see my new digs!  Pretty nice, way better than that shit hole I was living in at the last place!  This place is new!  How's that hot little wife of yours?  Damn, I can't believe how lucky you got with that!  Yeah Mi-Ran, he's married, a little shy, sidle up to him and see if you can warm him up a bit!  You two get cozy!  Dude, you have got to come with me next month when I hit Thailand!  It would be insane!  Hey, do you know anywhere I can get some Ambien? I've got a doctor back in Seoul, but I need one local. 

Dirty Bird prattles on for over an hour while Mi-Ran rubs my leg, nibbles my ear, generally ignores my attempts to move away.  I flee frequently to the bathroom and try to sit at the booth across from them to no avail; Mi-Ran keeps pulling me back in.  Dirty Bird goes on and on.  I decide that if I'm to survive, I need to get drunk, combatively so.  This is the only language Dirty Bird speaks when he gets full on.

Soon I'm on the same wave length.  Cmon man, lets blow this popsicle stand, these girls are boring and ugly.  Let's so someplace more upscale than hanging out by the side of the tracks.

I convince him to leave, but he'll only go if we first head back to his place so he can show me his new digs.  He wants an Ambien and to get a bit into a bottle he's got before we head out again.  I decline the pharmaceutical; Ambien generally makes me feel like I'm swimming in concrete before I pass out.  I don't get what he sees in it.

We're walking past the equivalent of a park when Dirty Bird stops:

Hey my car is over there, let's grab it.  But first I gotta pisssssshh. 

He's barely concealed behind a rose bush when he whips it out and goes about his business.  I think about how to dissuade him from driving, since at this point he can barely stand and is obviously pissing on his shoes.

Two older adjusshis see this, and become very agitated.  They come over and proceed to berate Dirty Bird for engaging in such a public display.  They become belligerent and loud.  Dirty Bird just laughs at them mockingly and walks over towards his car.  I make to drag him off when the cops show up.

The two guys accuse Dirty Bird of trying to drive drunk and trying to start a fight.  These fine gentlemen had only wanted to help Dirty Bird find a public restroom and not embarrass himself.  Dirty Bird had insulted them and Korea by acting so barbarically.

I'm not nearly as drunk and explain to the cop that it was all a misunderstanding, Dirty Bird was only getting his bag from the car, he lives very close by and I was taking him home, he had had a really bad day and was not himself.  My lucidity pays off and we are able to scuttle away, much to the chagrin of the two adjusshis who had just started to talk about how they had been victimized by the bad waeg and may need compensation.

Dirty Bird's apartment is pretty new, but small.  Take out containers fill the sink and counter top, beers cans and bottles are everywhere, laundry clean and dirty covers all the chairs and bed, there are shit stains and dried urine on the side of his toilet.  Dirty Bird pops an Ambien and opens the bottle.  I take a drink and wonder how he can live in such a sty.  He tries to slur out something, perhaps some deep observation on the universe, but it doesn't quite become articulate. Within 20 minutes, Dirty Bird is passed out bottle in hand.

I take my leave and head home.  I walk for a way wondering what combination of personality and experience makes a Dirty Bird.  Then I just walk.  I know it's only a matter of time before I see him again, and while this time wasn't as nasty as I've seen it get and I didn't actually spend much money, I get the feeling that one of these days something will knock the Dirty Bird down and he won't get back up.

But then again, guys like him just seem to keep going no matter what.  It's usually those that hang around them that end up paying the price.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Another reason I miss the Land of the Not Quite Right.

Look forward to reading more DB installments.

Ben

Jake @ Expathell.com said...

I love me some dirty bird. Knowing how backwards this place is, the guy probably has a super-hot girlfriend.

F5Waeg said...

I've yet to see him date one. . .he usually goes for the weak among the herd, like that girl who yells "BAP!" whenever she finds herself next to a stranger.

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