I came home from school, recounted the 54,500 W I had set aside, and waited for the doorbell to ring. Which it did, 45 minutes early. Fine. The guy said, yook man, oh chun won, 65,000 W. Not fine. I had spent about my last few bills at the bakery getting a snack, and could scrounge up 61,000.
The guy started folding up the paperwork as I called Hwang. "Tell the guy I'm gonna run down to the cash machine." I put them on together, but he walked down the hall to the elevator with my jacket, growling into my phone. I followed him, watching it slip through my fingers for want of a few thousand won.
Yeah, I know that sounds like a lot, but it's around three bucks. I ran to the cash machine in the Family Mart in my building, but it wouldn't read my card. I cursed, loud and long. Not to worry, though, it's not like anyone can understand a word I was saying. Well, not the words, anyway.
I have mentioned how great my location is before. Two doors down is a bank, where I had no card troubles; but by the time I get back, the little man, his motorcycle, and my box, are gone. But Hwang has appeared. He assures me he'll be right back. Meanwhile I realize I'm standing in the breezeway in a pair of shorts and undershirt.
Don't care, I'm not budging until he gets back with my stuff. Which he finally does. And so the saga of the heavy coat and the Korean postal service finally comes to an end.
1 comment:
Wow, excellent fit. And it appears somebody has shed a few elbees.
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