And let me begin by pointing out that neither Karen nor Patrick were anything other than gracious hosts and scintillating conversationalists. Smart, handsome folks. After gathering at Hongdae exit 4 (turns out exit 3 is a phantom) we hiked up several blocks to the restaurant, which was quite a good one--we had most of the top floor to ourselves. Samgyupsal, galbi, maekchu and soju were abundant. Here's a picture (taken with my new camera):
The first fallen warrior was Gavin, who's soju limit was exceeded possibly before we even went upstairs. We talked sports, history, customs and almost sang some Monty Python: "Immanuel Kant was a real pissant who was very rarely stable..."
Phillip, bless him, tried to help the guy, despite our best advice, and thus got lost in the crowd. Andy--you know the one I mean--just wimped out. Wimped out. Period. Around eightish. Wimped totally out, around eightish. 'Nuff said, Phillies fans.
On to Itaewon we went, Karen, Patrick, Steve and I. To 3 Alley, which, if you have to go to Itaewon, isn't such a bad place. Vanda showed up, too, so it turned out to be a "good old time". Get this, though: Steve (#2) refuses to share his lesson plans with the rest of us--his shit, apparently, doesn't stink. Fine. Be that way. Just ask me for help when the time comes.
Anyway, I left in time to take the subway home, as is my usual pattern. BUT they were working on the tracks or something so line 6 stopped at Daeheung and I had to take a taxi, dammit. Right at W10,000. And we didn't even sing noraebang!
2 comments:
Wait, the way you set this up, I thought there was gonna be something bad about Patrick or Karen. It sounded like you were establishing, "God I shouldn't tell you guys about this, and Patrick and Karen are good people, BUT..."
Anybody else think that too?
Tuttle, you rapscallion! I was partying in Sillim until 3:30am last night.
Not just that, but I still woke up at 9:00am to watch the Phils game!
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