The girl from Jeju played me weak
So, I met this girl on Jeju Island when I was homeless and traveling around. She was my waitress my first night there, and waited until I finished my meal to show me around. We went on an epic four-hour walk around the island, shared some cocktails, and made tons of chitchat. She told me she was about to leave for a year working holiday in Australia and was excited to practice her English, since previously she’d only been studying English on her own. I was the first foreigner she’d ever had a conversation with, so I wasn’t trying to be overly amorous. I didn’t want to give her the wrong (right) idea about whities. Americans have a global reputation for being quite horny, in case you didn’t already know.
A week or so later, she calls and tells me that she changed her mind about moving to Australia, and that she was going to move to Seoul instead. I was a little freaked out about this, but she said that her new calling was going to graduate school in "uhh... cloning things." Then she invited herself to come visit the following week, since she was going to be in town to interview at a couple schools. It’s been a lonely couple months, at least in matters below the waist, so of course I obliged and I told her how to find and enter my place (the new pad has keyless entry).
Last Wednesday, I arrived home from work to find this girl from Jeju, Young-Jew, passed out in my bed with the TV blaring. I told her to make herself at home, but goddamn. I read on the couch for about an hour before I woke her up and asked if she wanted any dinner. She said she went ahead and ate without me, despite our plans to dine together. Then, when I sat on the (my own) bed to continue our chat, she totally freaked the fuck out: "Oh God! It’s ok. I will sleep on the living room!" "No, it’s ok. You keep on sleeping here. I can sleep on the couch. You’re my guest...." I asked if she was up for anything, and wanted to meet up with some of my friends later on. She was way hotter than I remembered, but her English was far worse than I recalled. I did my grad thesis more or less on bilinguals playing dumb in Black British Literature when talking to whities, so perhaps I’m dispositioned to thinking that she was putting one on because she didn’t really want to deal with me.
I bitched a little via text, and received a lot of sympathy from a dyke friend: "bloody hell! man. kick her out of your bed! where is the human decency in all this!?"
After an unsatisfying wink on my own (fucking) couch, I decided to meet some of the new coworkers for a game of cards. We played Hearts and I totally took out my frustrations on the queen of spades. That royal bitch was totally blindsided by what I had to deal her. After a few hours of playing cards, I’d had a couple beers and was braced to spend a night on my scratchy couch. I opened the door. Young-Jew was still wrapped up in my pimp burgundy comforter, and my whole fucking place smelled like a colostomy bag. In case my libido wasn’t deflated from getting hardcore shot down, the waft of feces - so thick you could almost chew it - wasn’t doing a whole lot for me. Perhaps that’s a Korean defense mechanism, like a lizard losing its tail. She slept through the fumigation.
The next morning, Young-Jew is loudly shifting about and blasts the TV before I can even get in a full night’s rest. She had the decency to make me breakfast, tofu and eggs, but I would’ve much preferred another couple hours in bed (couch).
After breakfast, I went to work (a couple hours early just because) and we parted ways. With a handshake. At least, I thought, by the time I got back home she wouldn’t be there.
At work, I’ve been treated to free lunch and dinner during training. At some really nice restaurants. There is mostly sitting around, since the owner is doing all the training himself with his personal "method" - which I’d rather not get into now. The owner is quite busy since he’s launching a new school, so I’d had a lot of idle time to chat with my fellow trainee. After lunch, I sat and shot the shit with Elena, the other newbie, for about three hours while the managers and owner were being unusually standoffish. Eventually, a manager comes by: "Elena, can I talk to you a minute?" A few minutes later, the owner comes and gets me: "Mark, can I talk to you for a minute?" In a private room, he tells me: "We have to let some people go. And it’s not you." At this point, I’m still thinking it’s a "not you, it’s me" type situation, so a lot of thoughts are crossing my head. Mostly, it’s a "que sera sera" feeling, since I know full well that I could have another job in a couple weeks if I really wanted to. And I have a few buddies to crash with, if it came down to that. Though, I am running out of dough. While I’m still processing all of this, he tells me that they’re letting Elena go, not me, because of her "negativity."* Then he gave me the rest of the day off.
I get back to my place, and Young-Jew is still mucking about. "What happened to your interviews?" Then she pretended not to understand the question, even when I simplified it in a few different ways. "My mom says that I have to go back to Jeju to work tonight. So I am leaving." "Tonight?" "Yeah." "[oh thank fuck!]" A few minutes later, she was out the door. I’m not sure why she was hanging around all day, but it was probably to devise another form of biological warfare. We exchanged goodbyes again and parted - this time with a highfive.
*My work desires chipper individuals, which I’m perfectly capable of being for six hours a day. This girl wasn’t especially "negative," and I was quite fond of her company. However, she is a Russian-born emigre to Canada and is definitely more culturally Russian. She just comes across as negative, yo. I think, personally, that they sacked her because she had a tinge of an accent. Also, they may suspect that she moonlights as a whore. You never know.
A week or so later, she calls and tells me that she changed her mind about moving to Australia, and that she was going to move to Seoul instead. I was a little freaked out about this, but she said that her new calling was going to graduate school in "uhh... cloning things." Then she invited herself to come visit the following week, since she was going to be in town to interview at a couple schools. It’s been a lonely couple months, at least in matters below the waist, so of course I obliged and I told her how to find and enter my place (the new pad has keyless entry).
Last Wednesday, I arrived home from work to find this girl from Jeju, Young-Jew, passed out in my bed with the TV blaring. I told her to make herself at home, but goddamn. I read on the couch for about an hour before I woke her up and asked if she wanted any dinner. She said she went ahead and ate without me, despite our plans to dine together. Then, when I sat on the (my own) bed to continue our chat, she totally freaked the fuck out: "Oh God! It’s ok. I will sleep on the living room!" "No, it’s ok. You keep on sleeping here. I can sleep on the couch. You’re my guest...." I asked if she was up for anything, and wanted to meet up with some of my friends later on. She was way hotter than I remembered, but her English was far worse than I recalled. I did my grad thesis more or less on bilinguals playing dumb in Black British Literature when talking to whities, so perhaps I’m dispositioned to thinking that she was putting one on because she didn’t really want to deal with me.
I bitched a little via text, and received a lot of sympathy from a dyke friend: "bloody hell! man. kick her out of your bed! where is the human decency in all this!?"
After an unsatisfying wink on my own (fucking) couch, I decided to meet some of the new coworkers for a game of cards. We played Hearts and I totally took out my frustrations on the queen of spades. That royal bitch was totally blindsided by what I had to deal her. After a few hours of playing cards, I’d had a couple beers and was braced to spend a night on my scratchy couch. I opened the door. Young-Jew was still wrapped up in my pimp burgundy comforter, and my whole fucking place smelled like a colostomy bag. In case my libido wasn’t deflated from getting hardcore shot down, the waft of feces - so thick you could almost chew it - wasn’t doing a whole lot for me. Perhaps that’s a Korean defense mechanism, like a lizard losing its tail. She slept through the fumigation.
The next morning, Young-Jew is loudly shifting about and blasts the TV before I can even get in a full night’s rest. She had the decency to make me breakfast, tofu and eggs, but I would’ve much preferred another couple hours in bed (couch).
After breakfast, I went to work (a couple hours early just because) and we parted ways. With a handshake. At least, I thought, by the time I got back home she wouldn’t be there.
At work, I’ve been treated to free lunch and dinner during training. At some really nice restaurants. There is mostly sitting around, since the owner is doing all the training himself with his personal "method" - which I’d rather not get into now. The owner is quite busy since he’s launching a new school, so I’d had a lot of idle time to chat with my fellow trainee. After lunch, I sat and shot the shit with Elena, the other newbie, for about three hours while the managers and owner were being unusually standoffish. Eventually, a manager comes by: "Elena, can I talk to you a minute?" A few minutes later, the owner comes and gets me: "Mark, can I talk to you for a minute?" In a private room, he tells me: "We have to let some people go. And it’s not you." At this point, I’m still thinking it’s a "not you, it’s me" type situation, so a lot of thoughts are crossing my head. Mostly, it’s a "que sera sera" feeling, since I know full well that I could have another job in a couple weeks if I really wanted to. And I have a few buddies to crash with, if it came down to that. Though, I am running out of dough. While I’m still processing all of this, he tells me that they’re letting Elena go, not me, because of her "negativity."* Then he gave me the rest of the day off.
I get back to my place, and Young-Jew is still mucking about. "What happened to your interviews?" Then she pretended not to understand the question, even when I simplified it in a few different ways. "My mom says that I have to go back to Jeju to work tonight. So I am leaving." "Tonight?" "Yeah." "[oh thank fuck!]" A few minutes later, she was out the door. I’m not sure why she was hanging around all day, but it was probably to devise another form of biological warfare. We exchanged goodbyes again and parted - this time with a highfive.
*My work desires chipper individuals, which I’m perfectly capable of being for six hours a day. This girl wasn’t especially "negative," and I was quite fond of her company. However, she is a Russian-born emigre to Canada and is definitely more culturally Russian. She just comes across as negative, yo. I think, personally, that they sacked her because she had a tinge of an accent. Also, they may suspect that she moonlights as a whore. You never know.
posted by Mark Hernandef at 9:09 PM
21 Comments:
I wouldn't take that personally. It's tough to be lonely, but did you really expect to have sex? Cultural differences?
Wow, weird chick. I wonder why she really came to Seoul if she wasn't actually interviewing.
No, I really didn't expect to. I've never been one to count my chickens before they find themselves in adult situations, or whatever. Second base would've been nifty, though. Sleeping on the couch wasn't really on the docket, I didn't think.
Is it culturally acceptable for men and women to share beds in Korea if they don't know each other?
topp: Yeah, cheers. I'll remember that next time. Thailand is the ladyboy capital of the world. I already knew that, but thanks for the warning. I'm going there in April! Why do anonymous people keep asking silly questions? It's as "culturally acceptable" for people to share beds in Korea as anywhere else. Google "vagina," and you'll see that these aren't exceptionally prude peope.
Val: Very weird. Apparently, the person she was supposed to interview with was away, so she just had a phone interview instead. Odd.
Even weirder? A text she just sent: "I miss you. Call me." Sucks to her asmar, yo.
*For the record, I'd never blog about getting laid. But blogging about not getting laid is a different ballgame.
That toppatwo guy consistently freaks me the hell out.
I don't think it's silly to assume there are different attitudes toward sexuality in different areas of the world, but since you're resistant to that idea, I assume the other option was that she just wasn't attracted to you. Fancy that.
And if she read the blogs...how could she NOT be.
Lots of anonymous users! Yay for being popular!
anon) OMG! You mean not all Asians are attracted to the most hirsute man they're ever seen? That's utterly tragic and ... not doing a whole lot to wreck my ego. Nice attempt, though. She wouldn't actually be capable of understanding the blogs, but thanks for throwing that in there - "how could she NOT be" indeed!
A: I'm not sure why. All I can assume is the most vindictive BM that I've ever come across. The first thing that I did when she left, though, was to peek under the sheets and check for a "russian present" (as we say down home [jk]).
I want a graduate degree in cloning things.
It's pretty silly to assume that Easterners are a prudish people. Especially since Japanese pornography (the tame stuff) features some crazy staged rapist/molestation shit typically ending in tears. And, have you heard of "gorn"?
And how did the Americans get pegged with the "horny" label? I always thought it was the French. Or was this something that the U.S. military established?
(You should send me your thesis sometime.)
I honestly thought is was common sense bordering on stereotype that Asian cultures tend to lean toward the conservative side i/r/t sexuality in their women. Whether or not it is reflected in porn or the white asian-fetishism, I wouldn't know, but I don't think the two are related.
But here's what I get when I google "Asian" and "vagina" and "-porn":
"South Asian women are speaking out about their vaginas, combating the silence surrounding sexuality that is so pervasive in South Asian culture.
"The Secret Life of My Vagina," a series of monologues written and produced by South Asian women at Brown, examines masturbation, body hair, sexual abuse and other topics at the confluence of sexuality and ethnicity.
Director Rashi Kersawani '05 recalls reading Eve Ensler's "The Vagina Monologues" over winter break and feeling the narratives did not represent Kersawani's own experience as a South Asian female.
"Our stories are unique as a result of our ethnicity," she said. "The experience of sexuality by South Asian women is something that is stifled by our culture."
Comprising 17 acts and a cast of six, the production explores the confrontation of South Asian and Western sexual mores.
Shara Hegde '05 performs a monologue confronting the issue of body hair and the difficulties of coming of age as the only South Asian girl in the community. Her character feels the need to remove her body hair in order to be accepted by men, yet when she seeks support from her parents, they dismissively insist she "focus on her studies."
The author of one monologue recalls her mother's admonition before she attended a school dance: "No dancing with boys. You may have been born here, but you aren't some dirty American girl." She then describes her feelings of guilt about past sexual experiences with her boyfriends.
Another monologue examines the issue of sexual abuse in the South Asian community and a young girl's decision to lie to her parents about sexual abuse by her uncle.
The monologues are among the first in the United States to address the sexuality of South Asian women. Last year, two South Asian cultural organizations at Stanford University hosted "Yoni Ki Baat: Talks of the Vagina," addressing similar issues. Indian filmmaker Deepa Mehta's 1999 film "Fire" chronicled a lesbian relationship, triggering strong condemnations and acts of vandalism at theaters that showed the production."
SO I guess it's *not* really "silly." However, there was no mention of feces as a defense mechanism against hirsute horny Americans with unmet expecations. Perhaps that's just something women keep to themselves.
That sounds even worse than the Eve Ensler version. Why does almost all "feminist" theater feel so derivative?
Your google search was too cursory. "Feces as a defense mechanism against hirsute horny Americans with unmet expecations" is actually a trope in Asian feminist drama.
But, thank you for sending some hand-me-down from an underfed college journalist my way.
xox
I have a question... how did this turn into a discussion about cultural differences and Asian women's attitudes to sex? I believe that Korean attitudes about sex are as varied as they are in America and Europe. Maybe they don't engage in casual sex with strangers as frequently, but it doesn't mean that none of them (or even a small number) of them do.
Anyway, that's beside the point... Mark wasn't bitching about the fact that he didn't get laid, or about cultural differences standing in the way of a shag in his blog. He was talking about a strange girl whose lack of respect for other people's living quarters brought a whole new meaning to the terms 'abusing someone's hospitality' and 'overstaying your welcome' (even though she only hung around for a day).
I got a graduate degree in cloning.
Sounds like you need to block anonymous comments, Mark. This is getting confusing.
Eh, the anonymous comments are quite entertaining. And, they're not as anonymous as the individual thinks. Or, at least I hope there's only one person in this world who hates me enough to make a 500 word point about... godknowswhat.
Mark--I don't think posting an article is an expression of hatred, and if I remember correctly the original anon poster was actually trying to make you feel better about a bad experience. So, maybe rethink the position that hatred has anything to do with it.
Also, I can speak for anyone else and I know which anon posts I posted and which I haven't and there are at least 4-5 different anon posters just in this thread. You're obviously as popular as your are hirsute. Maybe feces is a misread sign of affection?
Oops, I meant "can't speak," not "can speak."
I'm confused by the need to post anonymously, given that you don't have to have a blogger account . . . just hit other and type a name in . . .
The rest of that was supposed to be "new-fangled internets," by the way. Guess I'm not as S-M-R-T as I thought.
I do type my name in, it just happens to be "anonymous."
My parents were sick.
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