Living in Wonju South Korea, These Many Long Years

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

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Sycophant!

Tonight was a company dinner. I went in and due to seating placement found myself sticking my nose far up the CEO's ass, but that was par for the course.  The true test came when I left, and Mr. Jeon decided he was going to come with me.

Last week Mr. Jeon had a complete meltdown at a division dinner.  He's being passed over for a massive promotion he feels is due to him for the years and sucking ass in, and has in fact been demoted; the CEO has decided to bring in one of his old buddies from SNU to fill the spot Jeon truly coveted, and the next best spot is being given to one of Jeon's enemies.

You don't need to be a super genius to figure all the recent hires and interns have been SNU; we've seen a massive drop in Yonsei and Korea U applicants, as the word has gone out.

Mr. Jeon has worked hard to kiss all the ass he needs to, and I get why he's pissed at being passed over. What he doesn't get is that he's pissed all over his underlings for the last four years, as he doesn't trust anyone to do their job.  His thinking is all it takes is that fucker that you think is competent to carry his weight to upset the whole procession, so best micromanage and take care of it.  Of course, this has led to a poisonous environment where dealing with him is a trial, with many people doing their best to get transferred out.

After listening to him go on about all the people he hates for a good two hours last week, I'd had enough: look, maybe the CEO is testing you.  Maybe he isn't.  All I know is that your hate is infectious, and won't further your cause.  We're all going to leave here with baaaad attitudes.

He turned to me and snarled: son of a bitch.

Now, there are various schools of thought as to whether or not he was referring to me specifically as a son of a bitch.  What is unanimous was my meltdown.

You know, Jeon, saying that to me rubs.  My folks wanted to get married, but since my white Anglo-Saxon grandfather didn't want his lily white daughter to have anything to do with my Catholic father scum, they said fuck you and got pregnant.  They had to be married this way and I came along.  Growing up in a town where this all meant something has made me sensitive to being called a son of a bitch, or a bastard for that matter. Why don't you go play hide and go fuck yourself?

And by the way, if you really want to know why you are being passed over, why not ask yourself why many of the women in the division are not here right now?  It's because you act like a pissant little king who thinks everyone is here to genuflect at you until the cows come home.  Let me ask you this:  what is going on in your head that you'd even consider asking me if I was smuggling drugs in your suitcase last May?  You can't fucking listen to people, you don't give clear direction as to what needs to be done, and you think everyone is out to get you.  You also think your foreign staff is here for you to jerk off on to when the Korean staff won't lick that soft spot under your ball sack.  Fuck you.

Let's just say the evening ended after that.   Mr. Jeon has been avoiding me and the public areas for a week, and I thought for sure I'd be fired, as there is a clear clause in my contract which states that getting into a fight while drunk with coworkers is cause for immediate termination.  Nothing has yet to come down the pipe.

What did come down tonight after dinner was he came up: Mr. Waeg!  I want to apologize for the many things I said.  I'm hoping you have forgotten!

Forgotten what?

Ah, you are my friend!  Let's go to the next stop!

I'm sorry, I must go home.  Tomorrow is too busy and already I have some issue with being productive.  Good night.

I will come with you!

As my cab will pass by his place, I don't disagree.  In the cab, we talk about how I understand his situation, but as I'd never have the opportunities to rise in this country as he has, he should consider who he decides to rant to.  My payment for this was that when we get close to his place he says:

I can give you some money for the cab.

He holds out 2 chonners.  The fare is already six.

Take your two chonners and stick em up your tight ass you mother fucking cheapskate fuck.  You want to 'apologize' so I can pay for your cab ride or maybe even more drinks I see.  I asked you for a reference letter and you expected me to buy you dinner and drinks.  I want anything done with you and I'm supposed to give you a gift or take you out.  Do your fucking job, step up and learn what it means to be boss.

Instead, I said Goodnight Mr. Jeon.  See you tomorrow.  I don't take his money.

The only upside to all this is that the new head of the division seems way cooler.  Let's hope.  In the meantime, I get to refine my skills in sycophancy.

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