Mail-Order Teacher: Poison and Throw Up

Let's face it. My 20's were insane. They were full of tumultuous relationships and alcoholic beverages. Friends died. Boyfriends spat on the concept of a peaceful existence. Things happened that would give my mother 50 heart attacks if she ever knew about them...and the things she did know about...well she would have 50 heart attacks if I ever wrote about them in this blog. By the time I was turning 30, I was more than happy to say goodbye to the Roaring Twenties. I was ready to not be a teenager anymore.

Let's just say that if you ever have a problem or an issue in your family that you're afraid to talk to your church friends about, call me. I don't judge.  Chances are I've been there, done that. Yes, my insatiable desire to gain life wisdom and street smarts has taken me to some pretty grimy places.

Now I'm 31 and I've decided to become my own big sister. My own best friend. I'm finally in a place where I can wholeheartedly embrace the fact that no one can take care of me the way I can. No one can, and no one will. And, that's ok!

The point I'm trying to make with all of this is...well...I don't like bars anymore. I look around at the little boys with their cigarettes and glasses of Jager and Red Bull and all I see is a bunch of poison and throw up. Certainly no one who's good enough for my little sister (me). But the party scene in Seoul is hoppin' to say the least...and many of my friends are understandably right in the thick of it. I can't hate--after all, I was there a few years ago! Far be it from me to deny anyone their fun. It was there for me when I needed it.

I wouldn't even deny the gang of about 6 Middle Eastern-looking men their fun as I was leaving Thanksgiving dinner at Stephanie's Thursday night. We had concocted quite a delicious Thanksgiving dinner for 7 without the use of ovens, which none of us own.   As I was leaving her little alley and entering the main street of Itaewon on my walk home at 11pm, iPod blasting, the men politely stopped me saying "Excuse me" and I removed one earphone so that I could be of assistance.

"Excuse me," one man said. "Are we in Itaewon?"

"Yes, this is Itaewon," I answered sweetly.

"Are there any good bars or nightclubs around here?"

"Yes, there are!" I directed them up the road and to the left, where there is a strip of restaurants and various pubs.

"No," he explained, "Not restaurants. I mean...are there any nightclubs? Where are those?"

I figured out he was asking me where the hookers were. But--what if he wasn't asking me that? I was faced with a decision. I genuinely wanted to help them find their hookers--but what if that wasn't what they were talking about? Did I really want to offend a gang of 6 large Middle Eastern men while walking alone through Itaewon at 11pm on a Thursday night? I couldn't just blurt out "Are you asking me where the hookers are?" to them! And anyways--ew!  I'm a lady for all they know. Don't just assume I'm savvy to the fact you're looking for prostitutes just because you say "nightclubs" in an accentuated manner.

I directed them further down the road. I didn't tell them that they also wanted to turn right at the Baskin Robbins and left up the first little alley to Hooker Hill. I figured they'd figure it out eventually.

One of my awesome new coworkers, Gene, was turning 30 this weekend. On Friday, in the break room, she asked me about our upcoming trip to Busan next weekend, for my other awesome new coworker Ashley's wedding.

"Are you going to drink?" she asked. She looked hopeful.

"Do you think I'm going to drink?" was my reply.

"Well, no...but maybe I can make you drink," she said.

"Do you think you can make me drink?" I asked, with one eyebrow raised.

She looked at my face. "No." she realized.

It was the greatest conversation ever.  Last night at her birthday party, I was filling up my glass with water from the water cooler.

"Gene," I said, "you know this thing is filled with vodka, right?" I couldn't help but tease her.

By midnight, the small bistro, which she had rented out for her party, had already begun to resemble a small night club. In other words, the smoke was taking over the air I was trying to breathe and I was getting ready to leave. On my way out, I blew a protesting Gene two kisses.

Nobody messes with my little sister. Haha! Maybe one day I'll become one person again...but for now I'll just be sisters with myself. I always wanted a little sister, anyways.