The Hangover That Just Won’t Stay

It’s been a while folks.

It’s not because I have nothing worth telling, it’s because I don’t really feel the need to share.

See, Korea is slowly changing me in ways that I don’t necessarily appreciate.

I’m gradually becoming much less egocentric, arrogant, and drama-queenish.

While that may seem like a blessing, for an American, that’s pretty much like cultural rape. If I can’t tell stories that make me look good, what the fuck am I going to do with my time?

Well I’ll tell you the answer to that rhetorical question.

1.  Be hungover.

Drinking has consequences. Long term it is eating away at my liver like a Korean woman eats cheesecake: so fucking slow you don’t even realize it’s happening until it’s all gone.

But, amidst all the consequences there is a benefit: hangovers.

I love them.

Waking up with a hangover is one of the worst things you will ever do. It’s early (like 1pm). It’s bright. You’re hazy. All you want to do is sleep.

But when the housecleaning lady from the $120 hotel that you thought was $12 keeps banging on your door and telling you to leave…you really don’t have a choice.

Actually, every time I’ve actually forced myself to wake up and do something with a hangover, I enjoy it. It’s like an all day after-buzz. Everything moves slower, and coffee tastes like the best thing you’ve ever had.

You might even write a blog post…who knows.

Back to my pointless description of life…Korea is all about who you know. Connections are king.

Thankfully for me I look like Jamie Oliver, and that guy is a fucking stud in Korea. I had no idea who he was until I came here, but everyone and their mother’s child loves him here.

Last night I got told 4 times that I was his doppledanger. What to do? It gets me attention and I like it.

But my connections are not all so shallow. Last night I experienced a part of Korean life that was so new and exciting: The life of a VIP.

I love clubs. I love dancing. But when a friend of a friend invited us to a club in Hongdae, I didn’t know what I was in for.

We walked in the door, past the lines of people waiting to get in. Flashed the VIP badge, the lady took our bags and coat, we took some complementary shot and were whisked away to the upstairs part where we were able to look down on the “common folk.”

Instead of buying drinks, there were bottle of alcohol on the table to poor from. The ladies were beautiful, the men were friendly, it was like a subculture within a subculture.

1:00 turned into 2…then 3… then 6.

When we decided to go to round 2, the sun was coming up…but the party was just beginning.

We went across town to Shinsa, my old neighborhood, to a club I never knew existed.

I will call it hooker bar.

My old area of Seoul is famous for its high class, expensive, and beautiful hookers.

These are women that, even if I decided to reach down in to my whoreish heart for a night of scandalous fun, would be so far out of my price range that my bank card would make them laugh.

But, hookers have to party too. So, there, with the sun shining brightly outside, was an amazing club filled with the most beautiful, most unpretentious people I have even seen.

They weren’t trying to get laid…they’d had plenty of that earlier.

They weren’t there to judge you…they’ve had plenty of that directed at them in their lives.

They were just there to dance. And dance we did.

Finally at 8am, when the group was moving to the 3rd club of the night, I decided to go to bed.

It was an amazing night, with amazing people, and new friends.

Honestly, now that I’m awake, I love being hungover…okay, now to escape this dark PC room and go study some Korean!

Happy Birthday Buddah!

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