Living in Wonju South Korea, These Many Long Years

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

Friday, January 20, 2012


One of the more interesting Korean related experiences of our trip involved a visit to a Greek restaurant run by some asshole.

Way back in the day I did time there as a server, being the token male who was hired as a fuck you by the sister of the owner. He had been dealing with charges of sexual harrassment at the time, so he relunctantly agreed to hire a young, virile male. It didn`t take me long to realize that he really liked women with a big booty, but I digress.  He also hated the fact that I existed.

It was a torrid, passionate, short lived affair that resulted in charges and a small disbursement to me for my troubles. The food is awesome, so of course we took a visit. We just happened to be there when a group of Korean students walked in. While I clocked them upon arrival, it took the girls a good hour to realize that this group was speaking Korean.

As we were leaving and I was saying goodbye to some old friends, the girls kept staring at the people at the table obvioulsy causing some discomfort. Excuse them, they speak Korean as well. Their mother is Korean. An obvious wave of relief was followed by some charletan who declared: I know, since I could feel something familiar with them.

Really. Wow, that is amazing. You could sense the Minjok flowing through their veins. Whatever that is we should bottle it. Instead, I smiled and continued with my greetings and goodbyes with old friends.

But that one moment really encapsulated a lot of what is Korea once you unpack it.

One more Pabst before bed.

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