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Ouch. That’s a lot. About $80 U.S. dollars. A lot of money for…well I wasn’t even sure. Would I just get a massage? Would I just get a handjob? Or sucked off? Or fucked? Would that cost extra? What if she wasn’t hot? What if she was fucking ugly? Could I get my money back?
Regardless of all this, I didn’t have any money anyway. All I had was 12,000 won, quite shy from the 80,000 this ajjoshi was asking from me.
“What can I get for 12,000 won?” I asked in English, not even trying to say it in Korean. “Huh? What can I get for 12? Handjob?” With my hand I made the international symbol that means ‘handjob’ and he laughed.
“Hehehe!” he laughed from his raspy throat, “Nothing.”
And he laughed at me some more and I could smell the horrible stench of his breath as it came through the gaps in his smile.
Humiliated, I put on my jacket with a feeling of defeat, dressing myself when all I wanted to do was be undressed. The old man stepped off the wood floor and into his slippers. I tried to just shove my feet into my sneakers, but caught the back part of them too far underneath my foot. I struggled to shake and shimmy my foot in. My humiliation and embarrassment surely didn’t help me. The old man ran off. As I got my other foot in, he came back with a shoe horn, which was now unnecessary. I followed him down the hallway again, and just before the lobby there was a doorway with a curtain of beads. This doorway led to a backroom that was dark and only lit with a blue light. Behind the beads I could only see the sillouette of a woman, a tallish, kinda curvy woman, standing there poised and waiting, ready to be told to come out and work. She must have heard me and the commotion I made with the old man.
I walked out and imagined the old man telling her the story,
“Would you believe that silly foreigner? All he had was 12,000 won. What did he expect to get with that? A pat on the head?”
I went home feeling even more defeated and confused at this place. I contemplated going down to the ATM and taking out 80,000 no 100,000 won and fucking the shit outta that whore, but no…that was just way too much money to spend on that.
I calmed myself down by jerking off. Sometimes its the only thing you can do. I fell asleep and woke up the next morning–going another day without sex hadn’t killed me. I was still sexually frustrated, that was for sure, but I could live.
Little did I know that in just a few days I’d get laid for my first time in Korea…
A stranger in a strange land. One of the most common literary themes used by writers is that an individual who is isolated from those around him tries foolishly to bridge the gap and build relationships. Another common theme is that through such alienation, comes self-knowledge. I hope to experience the struggle in building relationships as well as self-knowledge and write about it. These are literary themes that I plan to explore in the artwork of my life here in Seoul. This is my first time living in another country, so far away from home. To be quite honest, I wasn’t very well traveled either.
When I first landed in Incheon Airport and was sent to training and orientation, I was very disoriented, and culture shocked, I actually needed the orienation, the decompression period to help me re-adjust. I could write all about how the different cars and street signs freaked me out. How the brightly painted parking garage at Incheon Airport amazed me at first, and how even simple things like vending machines had me gazing in wonder…
“Wow, what’s a Ghana chocolate like?” And now that I’ve been here a few months, I know that Atlas is my favorite candy bar here.
But at first, I was truly culture shocked. At the orientation and training, I frantically tried to make friends. It reminded me of being back in college. I was very clingy. Very very clingy. It wasn’t cool. Looking back on myself, I hated myself that week because I was so desperate for friends, for some inkling of something to remind me of home. Not surprisingly, I clung to a fellow New Yorker.
We didn’t really date, so much as we just got to vaguely know each other and occassionally we would sneak from the group to go make-out.
She was cute, but nothing too special. I quickly lost interest in her when I started going out with my friends and meeting more women. But at first, it was frustrating. I had heard all of these things to watch out for from posts I had read on internet forums where guys wrote about the craziness and quirkiness of Korean women, and also things I heard from friends of mine who had been in Korea during their service in the army. They warned me of bar girls and women who end up being prostitutes. Of course, I think they hung out at different kinds of bars, but nevertheless, I was weary of women when I first came here. I also heard that women can be extremely difficult to understand and figure out because of the cultural differences. I heard that a lot of times they’d send out mixed signals and guys would think “yeah I got this, this girl is going home with me” only to be duped and left to go home by themselves. That sometimes women just wanted put out to a guy.

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