Living in Wonju South Korea, These Many Long Years

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

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Dirty Bird: Slide!

Dude!  You've got to come meet up in the twon!  It'll be the bomb mang!  I promise you a night in Klown prison and an STI!  What are you waiting for ya softcock!  Hands on socks lets go!

Dirty Bird's missive does not go unnoticed.  But Waeg is sleeping, distracted, staring at a screen while listening to drunk Adjosshis argue outside the screen golf across from his pad.

He slides.  STI.  After his first, he's never gone looking for one.  She was pretty fine at 16, and had been straight about having chlamydia.  He being all of 20, and with what little he knew telling him that at worst he'd have to get a shot or swallow some pills, took the plunge.

Dude!  Why U No Answer?!  You aint's dead yet!  ITAEWON!!

The second message comes quick after the first.  Waeg doesn't answer a lot these days, letting most things slide.  He hasn't lost anything, it's just simply . . . away.

He slides.  Wikipedia is bringing him the same pages he's read a dozen times before.  He edits a few and moves on.

WTF mang!  Answer!  Let me know when you land so I can meet!  

He thinks about a call he got some time ago:  a friend who wanted to come to the Wonj, but Waeg sent him to Andong to meet.  Waeg remembers how the perp bragged about riding the train free, shoplifting from local stores, dissing all things Klown in front of Waeg's wife the first time met.  Waeg knows he could laugh, but it was over the top and the call had an edge that seemed bad chemistry, and Waeg thought of his kids.  It worked fine that night on the plan to Andong, as Waeg had to kiss much ass at a company dinner, and couldn't get away sober to drive south.  But the fact that Waeg hadn't answered his phone was unpardonable to the chemical brother, who ranted and raved the same as when Waeg wouldn't lend him money: I'll pay you back don't you want free interest???  For Waeg, it was more wondering what had made the chemical brother forget how to slide, something shared.  They no longer speak, but Waeg knows they never really did.

Waeg's phone rings.  He looks at it for a minute, and not for an instant does he entertain where he should be, what he could have been; only what has made him who he is.  Not answering would be simple, easy, but Waeg has already booked the last train, and is ready to slide.

Dude, I'm on my way.


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