The Parable of the Orange Drink

I might have mentioned before about the occasional juice box we get served at school lunch--clearly labelled (even in English) as Orange Drink. This means it has only a passing relationship with orange juice, something on the order of 10% in common with it.

Koreans are all about how healthy they are, and how great their diet is compared to the American diet, and on the whole I think they're right. But the first time we were served this Orange Drink product, every one of them at the table was stunned to learn that it is actually artificially-flavored sugar-water. They've never read a Nutritional Facts label in their lives, though they're printed here just like in the States--only in Korean, of course.

Anyway, moving on to today, we got an Orange Drink box with our lunch, and at the end, I was about to poke the straw into mine when Mr Hwang stopped me. Dear, sweet, kind Mr Hwang, who would do anything for me, who regularly invites me into his home to sup with his adorable family, Mr Hwang with whom I walk to school every morning, Mr Hwang who labors under the impression I am a mildly retarded ten-year-old when it comes to anything outside the classroom. One time, he tried to show me how to use tape. Swear to God.

So, he thought I was doing it wrong, and would never be able to penetrate the little foil dot since I hadn't extended the straw. Now, in point of fact, the physics of it suggests--oh, never mind. I just said, "Dude, I think I can open a juice box," and proceeded to do so.

He started off to show me the Korean Way and broke his straw in two. Is it still schadenfreude if you don't laugh out loud?