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Rice-Boy Larry's birthday is right around the corner. So yesterday we took a walk to a local sashimi restaurant. That's one of the best things about living in Korea. You don't need to own an automobile to get from place to place.
Anyway, this joint is about a fifteen-minute jaunt from my apartment, and it's menu is posted outside the front door. However, it's completely written in Hangul with no English translations. Therefore, my son had to explain the options to me.
He said, "It's out of your price range."
I lit a cigarette and took a heavy puff. "Don't be so sure of yourself. This is a special occasion, and I'm pulling out all the stops."
He sighed heavily. "Well, the cheapest meal will set you back a hundred bucks."
"And what do I get with that?"
"Dad, it's a sashimi restaurant. All you're gonna get is raw fish."
"A hundred bucks for some raw fish? That's kind of steep, isn't it?"
He nodded. "Let's go eat meat, instead."
So we found a place on the walk home that specializes in Hanwoo beef. Hanwoo beef costs an absolute fortune. It's the Korean version of Kobe beef. A 100 grams at this place goes for a whopping twenty-five bucks. In fact, we were about to leave when Larry spoke up.
He said, "They have other things on the menu that won't blow up your wallet."
I nodded. "Like what?"
"How about moke saal?"
"What the fuck is moke saal?"
"It's pork steaks taken right from the pig's neck."
"How much will it set me back?"
"Seven dollars per 100 grams."
I clapped my hands together in a sign of victory. "OK. Moke saal it is."
And let me tell you motherfuckers something. The food was absolutely delicious. At these types of establishments, the customers cook the food themselves over a barbecue. The waitress also gave us lots of garlic and sweet potatoes to complement the pork. It was a terrific feast. And I washed it all down with two bottles of soju. As you can imagine, I soon became sloppy drunk.
While we were stuffing our faces, we struck up a conversation.
I said, "I saw you talking to a girl a couple days ago."
"Who?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know her name. But she has a great pair of tits. Does that little detail jog your memory?"
He shot me the stink eye. "Jesus, Dad. Grow up, will you?"
"Don't blame me. I couldn't help myself. She was wearing a really tight shirt that didn't leave much to the imagination. And let me tell you something. With a rack like that, she's definitely going places in this world."
He took a sip from his can of Coke. "She's only sixteen."
"Son, I'm not superman. If she's growing fuzz between her legs, then I'm going to notice." I paused for dramatic effect. "Men simply can't help themselves. It's just the way we're wired. Besides, it's not like I asked her for a date."
"You should really try to show some self-control."
"Have no fear. Self-control is my middle name." I took a shot of soju. "Are you and this girl an item?"
"No, we aren't an item. This is South Korea, not ancient Babylon. Things are different in this neck of the woods."
The meal set me back seventy dollars, and we got home at 8 p.m. Then I sat on the sofa and listened to music. I'm a huge fan of the Bee Gees. They always bring me joy.
I finally crawled into bed at 10 p.m. I slept like the dead.
