Blogger Notes

I’m trying to remember why in the world I haven’t blogged about the goofy night I had when I went to see Epik High last month. Can’t think of a good reason, so here goes…

The band was playing at a little place called CatchLight down in Hongdae. We got there around 930—FAR too early for a club in Seoul—which meant we had to wait outside until they actually opened the club around 1030 or so.

Problem #1. While standing in line to get into the club, I saw two of my students! Can I get a “damn?!” Is that not every teacher’s nightmare? Fortunately, neither of my companions was sippin’ on soju, which on so many other occasions has been the case…

Problem #2. Because of the line that formed around the club, we were a little worried about being able to get in. The girls I came with had a hook up for free entry through a club rat they had met a week or so before. Sensibly, I wanted to wait and see what her powers of persuasion were before paying $15 but after repeated prodding from the other two, I paid to get in. Thirty minutes later when the “friend” arrives, security waves me past and offers a hand stamp…but I’ve already paid. *boo*

In Seoul, night goes into the morning since the clubs don’t ever really close which means that in the interest of business, main artists don’t start playing until around 1230 or later. That being the case, I experienced several bouts of boredom with a little dancing in between. The girls I came with like to drink. One of them is the girl you see at parties walking around and talking illogically who will also try to argue you down when you tell her she’s drunk and doesn’t make sense. The other is the type that constantly makes you ask, “Is she drunk?” because you’re never really quite sure if it’s her or the alcohol talking. Our hostess for the evening—Club Rat—was a cute Korean girl who had spent some years living in the States. She’s one of those party girls who lives for male attention and is more than willing to flaunt herself to get it. Alcohol only enables her madness.

The situation was compromised on so many levels…

First of all, I would like to acknowledge all the wannbe thugs in Korea. They are far too plentiful in Seoul. Interestingly enough, Epik High is far more a pop-hop band than hip-hop. (I mean, come on guys. They rap over techno!) Still, their concert attracted a couple of dudes in sideways baseball caps and bandanas around their necks. WTH? Do not get it twisted. These fellas know all the words to the rap songs (but don’t speak English). And they’ll throw a Westside up in a hot minute.

So up until the performance, the little bit of dancing I did do was remarkably engaging for said thugs. I’m not one for the limelight so I found the extra attention when I and “the other black girl” (my friend) hit the dance floor was a little annoying.

Problem #3 A friend called. He was across town but had promised to come hang out in Hongdae. So I'm waiting for this fool to show up and he's still having a good time across town. In the process, I miss the magic moment when my companions are whisked upstairs to meet the band. *BOOOOO* I'm not a total groupie (in this case anyway). I'm mostly intrigued by the frontman's Masters in Creative Writing from Standford. I mean, seriously, Can we be friends? I also read in an interview where he said he wished he had studied film instead/in addition? to what he's doing presently. *sigh*

Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning after said friend had come and gone--I think it was about 4 a.m.--my feet were KILLING me. I only wore 1" heels but I had been on them for about 8 hours at that point. The club had a few tables downstairs near the bar in the non-VIP area so I decided to plop my grown behind down to wait for the kids to be ready to leave.

A few minutes pass and I put my feet up in the seat opposite me. At this point I should mention that I had just been to the salon the day before and gotten a touch up and black rinse. My hair was looking silky smooth and jet black. (Just how I like it!) That being the case, about 10 minutes after I had gotten comfy, some guy walks up to me from behind, puts his hands on my shoulders and leans in so his tummy is resting on my head. I'm like, WTH?!? I leaned my head back with my best WTH? expression plastered across my face. Dear God, the look on that dude's face was priceless!!! He was all, "Oh, soree! Soree!" He said his friend had been there. I couldn't help but laugh. Dude was hella awkward!

So, lo and behold 10-minutes later, the same shiznit happens! A dude rolls up from behind and does the hands on the shoulder thing. I offer the same WTH? expression. He looks genuinely shocked in the way that slightly drunk people are when things don't go quite right. Dude is like, "Soree. Soree." Then dude flips the script, "Beautiful! Beautiful!" At this point, I was EXTREMELY ready to go. As I'm pulling out my phone to see where my girls are. How about this fool grabs my phone and calls himself while I'm beating him on the arm and trying to get my phone back!!!! *straight foolishness!* He looked so proud of himself too...

At this point I stand up from the chair and make a fatal mistake. I ask, "And who ARE you?" in my most sarcastic tone. *Note to self: sarcasm does NOT translate.* Dude says his name, I have no idea what he says. I give a weak smile and say nice to meet you as I attempt to walk off. (Note the word "attempt.") After that, it's, "Beautiful! Beautiful" and then, I got MOUTHED! (Note the word "mouthed.") It would be improper to use the word "kiss" as that has romantic connotations and alludes to a level of technique that was not employed in said action. That was my third, WTH?!? of the evening which should probably be upgraded to a WTF?!? Dude then proceeded to lock me into a rib crushing (no joke) bear hug after which I believe he was expecting another mouthing. I don't even think I said anything though I'm quite sure I had my completely horrified face on in full effect. I was trying to push him away but he wasn't getting the point. Maybe he imagined I was moving my hand toward his neck for a romantic embrace. Actually, I was going for his trachea. The trachea is always effective when a normal push doesn't quite communicate the desired meaning. He finally got the point.

I was super extremely ready to go at that point...

Fortunately, that particular evening didn't have any more bootlegness worth describing. Well, there were a couple more niggling details but I don't have the energy to recount them.

I suppose I'm just trying to figure out why it is that random dudes will seriously think that exchanging names is enough to think they deserve some lovin'!