Living in Wonju South Korea, These Many Long Years

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

Thursday, April 10, 2014

When in Rome. . .

The morning starts like most others these days: ignore the first alarm at 5:45, consider dragging ass out of bed at 6:15, finally crawl out at 6:45.  Once in the bathroom it's time to light up and spit repeatedly, all while looking at porn on the smart phone while sitting on the throne.  It is all about becoming adjusshi after all: middle aged man, trying to understand how he became broken, knowing full well the remedies that worked in the past no longer apply, as I'm not about to abandon my kids to strike it out once more, as this is really what would need to be done, but then so few adjusshi have ever had the idea, and the single friends he has mock his inability to do so now.  Embrace mediocrity and learn how to live being dead inside!  But: porn.

That business taken care of, a quick shower brings things into focus: it's Thursday.  A bit of a light day actually, but then you never know.  The jerkoffs in manufacturing or sales just might screw something up, as is their nature.  But still, the day is looking pretty smooth.  As was that hot little Vietnamese number.  Maybe it's time to trade in and have some more kids. . .

Waking the kids up this morning is not such a chore: they went to bed early and so quickly respond.  There is also Nutella for breakfast, a wonderful way to induce sugar dependency, but let no moms at the school say there is no doting on children in our domain!  Hugs and kisses, out the door.

The van was left in the middle of the thoroughfare in the parking garage last night, parking brake off.  The dinner last night hadn't gone too late, but there were still no spots left.  As the day usually starts early, there is no issue with simply leaving the van in the thoroughfare, as if need be any schmo can simply push it out of the way: this is the adjusshi way.  The typical scenarios play out as I walk to the van: it can be entertaining when some ijit leaves their parking brake on, and calling them up with righteous indignation gives opportunity to check out their wives, as they are generally too lazy to take care of it themselves; but this is not adjusshi and should be struck from the record, as it represents the thoughts of a much younger man.  However, if the man actually shows, this gives a perfect opportunity to glare reproachfully, as any noob knows not to fix the parking brake. I don't give a fuck how drunk you were last night, but I do understand your special situation, so hurry the fuck up and move your car.  But nothing of the sort this morning, which gives a mild sense of disappointment, since when your life sucks this can be ignored momentarily by making someone else feel even worse.  But then I haven't succinctly stated the subject: as adjusshi, if you're not rich, or even if you are, your life sucks, since everyone is expecting you to sacrifice it all for family and country, and you do, sort of, and learn how to make it work for you by embracing the martyrdom in a manner that supports room salons and gold trips to Pattaya. Sadly, at this point I am rambling in a way that those not on the ground will need explanation, but as they say: in for a penny, in for a pound.

Musing on just how long it's been since I've left the confines of this most jaundiced of peninsulas is interrupted near the expressway toll gate: some jackass tries to blow past at 120 to cut onto the expressway ramp.  Honking ignites the other driver's indignant angry adjusshi mode, which prompts him to slow down and try to force me to the shoulder.  It's a fairly easy thing to work it, and there is the temptation to forgo the adjusshi pleasantries by simply blowing past him through the Hipass first, as opportunity presents. However, this could well result in a good 100 km chase on the expressway as no adjusshi will be denied the chance to scold, chastise, make someone feel smaller than they already know themselves to be. . . so I let him pull alongside and lower the window: like peacocks rustling their feathers, there is much hollering about questionable ethics and parentage.  This momentary distraction does do wonders to mitigate having no one to bark at for a parking garage violation, as I got the upper hand by not apologizing and drawing attention to just how many laws and civic codes he violated, so let the warm glow of righteousness envelop for at least a short while.

At the exit to work, I need smoke.  As there are no parking spaces available, simply pulling up in front of the GS25 and flicking on the hazards is the way to go.  As I walk slowly to the shop, it is great fun to simply ignore the angry honking from irate drivers that have been inconvenienced by this manoevre, since fuck them if they can't be patient. What a bunch of self centered wankers! It'll only be a few minutes, and a man needs his smoke!  Their honking is disturbing so many people, don't they have any respect or sense of civic virtue?! This is the adjusshi way mothafucka!

As I get back into the piece of shit I drive for a car, while living the normal piece of shit life I'm expected to live as a 40 something male in this piece of shit sticking out of Asia's asshole, I see him: the cardboard man.  70 something at least. I know I've probably seen him 100 times before, but this morning I'm more than impressed by his amazing hat, something that you'd expect a sport fisherman to wear.  The cart he uses to collect piles of cardboard and recyclables is decked out in flashing lights, ribbons, and Taegukkis.  Word is he is rich, he does it as he knows it needs to be done, and fuck those who think otherwise.  He stands up and represents.  I know that most of the older folk who do, do so from necessity, and get maybe a couple hundred a month.  This guy does it because he knows it needs to be done, and you give back what you can as that's what a person does, until they can no longer.  I get that, and I abide.

Fuck you Mr. Adjosshit

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