THE TRIP
The Mission:
Retrieve records stating the birth parents of Angela Smalley from the hospital in which she was born, in order for her to quit YBM, teach private lessons, make the same amount of money , and be my SugarMama.
Supplies:
Subway map, name of the hospital, crappy directions from a subway map, and vigor or vim (which ever sounds better).
We intended to take the motorcycle (Konglish = autobike {Korean Enlish}) to the hospital. Subway system seemed like the best choice since we have only driven around a small part of Seoul. As we entered the subway we would later find out that this would be the longest and most bizzare subway ride we had been on to date.
Strange things started happening when a man started singing, more like chanting, holding out a hat with the intent of getting some for his atrocious voice. The only people looking at him were Angela and I, everyone else seemed use to this style of Catholic Subway Confessional. I wanted to tell him my problems, get things off of my chest, like why do I always cuss at children after I hit them, or why does it hurt when I pee. I feel that I should get paid for that type of honesty. This bum, or preacher, I believe to be more of a bum, was dressed in better clothes then I had on. Eventually, we ignored him as well.
Next was the preaching lady, and her pray was children. It is sick to attack the ones who are so young and easily influenced. She was also chanting loudy, going from car to car to obtain some attention. She was not after money, she was after smiles.
Personal space is something to be desired in Korea. So Angela and I made up this game called,"first one off". It is very hard to be the first one off of a subway car, Koreans will push and inch their way to the doors. On Angela's second attempt she pushed her way to the front, and the only reason anyone thought she was being rude was because she couldn't help herself from laughing. This old guy didn't know what to make of her. It is amazing, you have to use your shoulder and nudge them out of the way and they don't move willingly. We still can't think of what we can do here in order to be rude.
Part two, soon to be added.
2 Comments:
What we dont get to see the bike?
9:54 AM
You sound like an old woman, you. You want a story, how bout this. Yesterday, as Masumi and I were making our way though an ally here in the holy city of Pushkar, on our way to the camel fair, a dog was ambling his way though the chaos... I say dog, well, only in part, as a large section of his skull was missing. As we watched in horror as the maggots and flys feasted on this unbearably sad being's brain matter (his look was one of almost a joyous bafflement... and mind you, he was walking!!!), even the Indians were taken aback at the sight of him. And that is really fucking saying something, my friend. We're taking a tally on who gets the most attention, Masumi's ass by the friendlies or my man purse by the charming little ones.
Still , all in all, it is a really amazing experience. We go to the Taj next. Hope your not working too hard and I really hope Angela gets her creds... she's a born sugarmomma.
6:51 PM
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