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Yesterday, I got home at 6 p.m. after a long and arduous bus ride. We were packed in like sardines, and the driver kept swerving through traffic as if he were a maniac in an action movie.
Anyway, the Dragon Lady was vacuuming the living room, and she never even gave me a second glance. Once again, I fell victim to the silent treatment. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Ho hum.
Rice-Boy Larry sat in his room typing away at his computer. He was sporting a flashy set of pajamas. They were dark blue mixed with fire-engine red.
I said, "Nice duds. Are they new?"
He nodded his head up and down. "Yeah, Mom bought them for me."
"That was nice of her." I looked in her direction and smiled. "Thanks for the gift."
Silence.
He said, "What are we having for dinner?"
"Well, let me take you and your mother for chicken."
Chicken is always my go-to emergency meal because the joint is right across the street. Plus the restaurant provides quality grub at a reasonable price.
The Dragon Lady spoke to Larry in Korean. I couldn't understand a word she was saying.
He said, "Mom doesn't want to come with us."
I shrugged my shoulders. "OK. Then I guess it's just the two of us."
Normally, I only go out for a nosh once a week. But I wasn't about to cook a meal with that malignant witch in the house. I figured it was best to limit my contact as much as possible.
Anyway, we ordered fried bird and booze. I've changed my drinking pattern. Instead of enjoying a full pitcher of beer, I've switched to a bottle of soju and a 500-milliliter mug of suds. This formula gets me nice and drunk without giving me a hangover.
We struck up a conversation as we stuffed our faces.
Larry said, "Mom got a job near Korean Granny's house."
"What's she doing?"
"Working at a nursing home starting Monday."
"Well, that's great. So she won't be returning? Fantastic."
"It's starting to look that way."
I slammed a shot of soju. "Are you disappointed?"
He sighed heavily. "Not really. But it's nice that our apartment isn't filthy for a change."
"That's true. But the cleanliness isn't worth the price we'd have to pay if we let her back in."
He frowned. "I understand."
We got home at 8 p.m., and I locked myself in the bedroom. I watched Fox News as I relaxed on the mattress. The Israeli army is still busy greasing angry Philistines in the Gaza Strip. The Jews have every right in the world to defend their country, but I don't see why America has to fund their war. Israel's been around since 1947, and it needs to stand on its own two feet. But who died and made me the boss?
I fell asleep at 10 p.m. and had a strange dream. I was a Roman soldier in England, sporting both a gladius and a helmet. I turned to one of my subordinates and tapped him on the shoulder.
I said, "Do you know the best thing about being the military?"
He said, "What?"
"You get to burn your enemies alive."
He sneered at me. "Asshole."
I laughed and laughed and laughed.
The alarm sounded at 5 a.m., and I drank a cup of instant coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a nasty shit. The Korean Methodist Church suspended one of its pastors for his pro-homosexual stance on gay marriage. Consequently, various LGBTQ groups throughout the peninsula are raising funds to help the guy out. It takes $7,000 to file an appeal.
