Yesterday, I woke up at 5 a.m. and drank a cup of instant coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a nasty shit. A popular Korean YouTuber named Daud Kim has bought a piece of land in Incheon with the hopes of building a mosque in the city. However, Koreans aren't as nice as Europeans and Americans, so the going shall be quite tough. For instance, some Muslims are trying to construct a mosque in Daegu, but the locals are going ape shit. They keep throwing the heads of pigs onto the property and hosting barbecue-pork parties right across the street from the site. Needless to say, this peninsula isn't exactly friendly to the Islamic community.
I had a brief conversation with Rice-Boy Larry later that morning.
I said, "Do you have any tests today?"
He nodded. "Calculus. But I don't think it's going to be too difficult."
"Why?"
"The first one was murder, and many of the students failed. So he's probably going to make the exam a little easier this time around."
"I've always hated math."
Larry shrugged his shoulders. "I can take it or leave it. In fact, I feel that way about all of my classes."
I sighed heavily. "You're a man of few emotions. And I'm not sure if that's a good thing. Passion is important for a happy life."
"Well, I'm very passionate about computer games. Plus I love to run."
"Computer games and running? Good luck finding a job with that garbage on your resume."
"I guess that we'll both be working at the Waffle House together."
Honestly, the idea appeals to me. If me and my two sons can all find gigs making fifty grand a year, then that comes to $150,000 annually. True. It certainly doesn't put us in Elon-Musk territory. Yet we won't be scrounging for roots and berries, either. I'm growing rather tired of Korea these days, and I'm longing to return to The States. I've pretty much had more than enough of the expat life.
I caught the bus and made it to my office by 7:30 a.m. As usual, I spent the next twenty minutes standing in front of the photocopy machine. Then I called my mother using Facebook Messenger.
She said, "When are you coming back?"
I gave her the stink eye. "I've told you a million times. I'll be hopping on that plane as soon as Larry gets his high-school diploma."
"And when will that be?"
"Another year and a half."
"I just hope that I'll still be alive. I'm seventy-seven fucking years old. I'm not going to last forever."
I took a sip of coffee. "Enough with the guilt already. It's not like I'm over here going to orgies and sitting on a pile of gold. I have a job and responsibilities. I can't flush it down the toilet until my kid's education is squared away."
She changed the subject. "I'm buying a new home. It's a little bit smaller, yet it still has four bedrooms. We can live together like the characters in The Little House on the Prairie."
"Sounds good to me."
"There's a Waffle House right down the road, and it always has a now hiring sign in the window. Plus there are tons of churches in this town. So you can have your pick of the litter."
"I'll probably have to work on Sundays. But have no fear. God will understand."
The rest of my day went OK. I'm still reading portions of The Canterbury Tales with some of the high schoolers. We are currently discussing the story of the pardoner. Good stuff.
