Last night I dreamed I was John McCain’s running mate.
And we STILL lost the election!
Go figure.
Say it was only a dream…
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Author Archives: John McCrarey
Won and Won and Won are 3…
“got to be good looking ’cause he’s so hard to see…come together, right now, over me…”
Heh, I’ve not done a Beatles riff on my blog until now. Perhaps I should have continued to refrain from doing so, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to pun.
Of course, I am talking about the Korean monetary unit, the Won (pronouced like “Juan”). Which is in the toilet these days. Folks like Jenn of I’ve Got Two Shoes fame who get paid in Korean money have seen what amounts to a significant pay cut. Me, I get paid in U.S. greenbacks, so I’m feeling almost wealthy these days.
When I first arrived in January 2005 the exchange rate was like W1030 to the dollar. Last year it dropped as low as W960 or so. Now it is over W1300 to the dollar. I exchanged $300. Friday and got almost 400,000 Won back. That’s 25% better than just a few months ago.
Not that I spend all that much money on the economy, I do most of my shopping on post. Still, it makes my beer tab cheaper and that’s a good thing.
“Money don’t buy everything it’s true
But what it don’t buy, I can’t use
Now give me money, that’s what I want…”
Day by day
I am doing better with each passing day. It is good to report that I am almost feeling normal again (normal being a relative term when applied to me I suppose).
Still not sure what is going on inside, went to the on-base hospital and saw a military doctor. He doesn’t know either, but at least we could talk about it in English. They took some blood and other bodily fluids for testing, so we’ll see in a few days if they find anything significant.
It is good to have my appetite and sense of taste back. Not sure what caused it, but things like beer and diet Coke suddenly were very bitter tasting. Had me concerned, but I have quaffed a few brews this weekend and all appears normal (eh, there’s that word again).
I have not smoked for two weeks now. And it is killing me. Sometimes I ache for a cigarette, but so far I have managed to exercise more self control than I’m usually capable of maintaining. The real test was playing in a dart tourney yesterday, an event that would normally have me chain smoking a pack or more. Chomped on some gum and craved tobacco like a madman and somehow made it through another day. Wish me luck with this. I have already lost the disgusting smoker’s cough and I keep reminding myself that not ingesting poison smoke may add a few years to retired life, but addiction is not always rationale. So we shall see what happens.
Speaking of the dart tourney, I won the doubles portion. My darts have been shit all season, and the nearly month long hiatis during travel and illness didn’t help my game either. Anyway, I threw much better yesterday which is encouraging. Still not back to where I was, but hopefully I’ve turned the corner on my downward spiral.
Thanks to all who have expressed concern and get well-wishes for me. It means a lot.
In the hospital
I have never previously been hospitalized. But I have visited enough US hospitals to have a pretty good idea of the experience involves.
Of course, I was not admitted to an American hospital, so I was going in pretty much blind. This is what I experienced:
I was put in a relatively small room with two other Koreans. Two beds were against the wall at the far end of the room. My bed was on the opposite wall near the entrance door. In this configuration, the foot of my bed was approximately six inches from the head of my neighbors bed.
There was a small TV mounted on wall at the “far” end of the room with the volume set on blare.
The bathroom was down the hall 50 feet or so and shared by everyone on the 7th floor.
I was apparently the only foriegner.
The room was not particularly clean. No privacy curtains or other such amenities were in existence.
I was not allowed to eat any food whatsover (interfered with “tests” and the medication I was receiving intraveneously).
I could never get a clear answer on just what was in the yellow liquid being continuosly fed into my arm.
It did eventually bring my fever under control.
I was totally unprepared for this visit and had nothing to help pass the hours and hours of sheer, mind-numbing boredom.
Both of my roommates snored louder than anyone I have ever head. In unison they nearly made the walls vibrate.
Although sleep was a sweet escape, I could only manage a couple of hours each night.
After the first night (Monday), I was ready to be discharged. Lack of sleep, lack of food, lack of mental stimulation were taking their toll. The doctor insisted I stay until Thursday.
Test results indicated I had picked up a pretty common virus that had planted itself in my spleen, which in turn had caused significant reductions in my white blood cell count. This was somewhat of a relief because there had been some talk of Malaria from the docs and I was fearing cancer.
Surprisingly, my second night in hospital turned out to be much worse than the first. As I lay there sleepless listening the snorers I was sure I was losing my mind. I felt totally trapped and helpless. It was the biggest pity party I ever had for myself.
The next morning when the nurse tried to attach a new bag of the mystery yellow fluid to my IV, I forcefully said “anio!”. And then I had her remove the IV from my arm. She was shocked and I am sure it got the staff talking about the miguk who must have lost his mind. A different nurse with slightly better English skills tried to get me to take my medicine bag a couple of hours later, but I again declined saying I was through treating the symptoms, I was in hospital to address the CAUSE of the symptoms. Which went completely over her head. The staff pretty much gave me a wide birth after that.
A doctor (not my primary physician) came by and asked if I wanted to go home and I said yes. He asked why and I explained that they could give whatever was in the yellow fluid in pill form and I could treat the symptoms in the comfort of my home. I wanted to deal with the virus/spleen thing. He said there was nothing they could do about that. So I said just release me and he seemed happy to be rid of my whining ass.
I had to wait two hours while the did the out processing paperwork. I had called Blue Cross earlier and they were getting the documentation they needed to process my claim from the hospital. Or so I thought. The phone rang in the room, and since I alone was ambulatory, I got up and answered. It was Blue Cross asking if things were going ok. I said you tell me. The rep said they had asked for my medical records and were told they had to FAX the request, which they had done 3 hours ago without response. Uh oh, I thought.
So, I am advised by a nurse that “international finance” is ready for me now, and when I arrive I ask if they got the FAX. Apparently so, but it did not matter because they did not have a working arrangement with Blue Cross and I would have to pay out of pocket.
I admit I get grouchy sometimes. Especially when I’m hungry. Or tired. And I was tired and hungry. So, I kind of let the poor guy have it. Then I regained my calm enough to get Blue Cross on the phone. They show Soonchunhwang Hospital as a preferred provider on thier website and I thought they could clear up this misundertanding. Well, it would be funny under different circumstances, but the bottom line is Blue Cross and SCH never completed a contract. Which left me where?
To everyone’s credit more calls were made, higher ups consulted, and finally an exception was made on my behalf. So, six hours after I began trying to escape I was out the door.
And there you have the tale of my first (and hopefully last)time in a Korean hospital.
Something to blog about
I’m not going to belabor this too much, but I got sick the day after returning from the States. Started out with just a feeling of lethargy which I attributed to jet lag. But driving home from work on Thursday I was overcome with the tell-tale chills and shivers that are the precursors of fever.
And fever it was. I was holding pretty steady at 103 through Sunday. Well, I would knock it down for a bit with ibuprofen (prescription strength) but a couple of hours later I would be cookin’ again. Needless to say I was getting much sleep, wasn’t eating, and apparently wasn’t getting better.
When the fever came back stronger than ever Monday morning I was sufficiently motivated to get off the couch and down to the local emergency room at Sookchunhwang Hospital (to which regular readers will know I became acquainted through a couple of previous incidents involving me, er, falling down). Fever is a symptom and since I couldn’t seem to defeat the symptom, I thought maybe some antibiotics to attack the root cause was the way to go.
I’ll give the ER staff credit, they took blood, x-rays, and urine but 3 hours later they had come up with no more clue than I had regarding my condition. So, they scheduled me an appointment with the Intenational Clinic at SCH later that morning. I asked for a shot of anti-biotics but the doc declined stating it might interfere with whatever tests they might perfrom at the clinic. So, I headed home W400,000 poorer and in no better condition.
After managing a couple of hours sleep, it was back to the hospital’s International clinic and my appointment with Dr. Yoo. After hearing my tale of woe and taking my temprature (still 103) he wanted to admit me for testing. I told him I live right up the hill, he could do his tests on an outpatient basis. He was pretty insistent that it would be much better for me to do this inpatient. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired and finally reluctantly agreed to be admitted.
And then the nightmare began.
(to be continued)
This post’s for you!
It’s been a long time comin’ ( an I’ve been a Long Time Gone) but here I am.
Actually posting this from Washington, DC (well, technically Alexandria, Virginia) where I arrived after a 20 hour journey from Seoul yesterday. Have meetings here the next two days before spending the weekend in South Carolina with family. Back to Korea on Tuesday.
I can pretty much illustrate my overall existence these past few months with an incident that occurred in the early morning hours today. My secretary booked my hotel and it is a freaking smoke free facility. So, I wake up at 0400 (jet lag is a bitch), brew the in-room coffee, grab the USA Today newspaper and head outside for a morning smoke. Now, I am all suited up for my first big meeting with the brass from higher headquarters and I’m being careful not to do something stupid like spilling coffee on my new tailor-made pink dress shirt. Suddenly there is a “plop” sound and I feel something hit my arm and I’m thinking surely it is not starting to rain. No, some f’n bird scored a direct hit on my suit jacket. That was a shitty start to the day.
Anyway, just prior to flying here I had 12 days in the Philippines, and spent the last five sick. Still sick, but getting better day by day.
Not sure who still ventures into the barren waters of this blog, but I’m going to try and get back in the groove again. So check back occasionally. Or not.
Quotation
“It is not in the world of ideas that life is lived. Life is lived for better or worse in life, and to a man in life, his life can be no more absurd than it can be the opposite of absurd, whatever that opposite may be.” Archibald MacLeish
A perfect equation
Let it be
Still alive and (mostly) kickin’. I’m just not able to muster the energy to post these days. Other than work and my personal life, everything is going great. But I’m ok.
Short version:
My boss left Korea yesterday. I’m acting Director and one of the referred candidates for taking the job permanately. Que sera, sera.
I’m playing .500 darts this season. Some moments of brillance sandwiched with amazing mediocrity.
I am spending the long 4th of July weekend in the Philippines. I really need a break.
I will be going back to the USA for the last two weeks of July. A week in Massachussetts and time with family in South Carolina.
I don’t know when I will post again. My life has become a bit of joke these days. I really hate being mocked.
The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them. Words shrink thoughts that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they are brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost your dearly, only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you said at all or why you thought it so important you almost cried when you were saying it.
That’s the worst I think. When the secret stays locked within, not for want of a teller, but for want of an understanding ear.
–Stephen King
(from memory, may not be 100% accurate. So sue me.)
Pork and beans
This Weezer video is rockin’ the internet. I actually saw it a couple of weeks ago and never got around to posting it. But now that the blogfather Instapundit has linked it I can say with some certainty “you saw it here last!”
Anyway, it’s a pretty fun video and catchy tune even if you don’t like Weezer. And I can appreciate the sentiment:
A better morning
Than yesterday at least. I don’t think I engaged in any inappropriate behaviors last night, so that’s a plus. In fact, I ran into the guy I went off on Friday night and apoligized profusely. We had a little chat about the circumstances leading up to my explosion and I understood where he was coming from. So, I was glad that he accepted my apology and I think we will put it behind us and move on without further incident. You can’t ever make it totally right, but I know we both felt better for having cleared the air.
We had a couple of nice dart tourneys at the Blue Frog last night. In the doubles I drew a somewhat inexperienced Korean, but he threw decent if inconsistent darts. We managed to beat Craig and Grant in the first round, but it was downhill from there I’m afraid. It was actually all on me, because my partner played better while my darts went to shit. We were the only team to beat Craig and Grant as they came back through the loser’s bracket to take first place. I was pleasantly surprised when we were awarded the 3rd place payout for our efforts (all of W10,000).
Next came the singles tournament, a format I prefer in some ways because it is all on you. No letting down a partner (or blaming them) if you fail. On the other hand, you have to beat players who are statistically better than you head-to-head, but I tend to like that challenge.
I got by Grant and Won Jun in the first two rounds of the winner’s bracket, setting up a confrontation with “The Angry Scot” Alistair. Regular readers know that Alistair is one of the top players in Itaewon and was certainly the highest ranked player in the tourney. He had played two tough matches against “The Goat” and Colin. Because we had been reduced to two boards, we had to wait quite some time before we actually stepped up to the Oche. As Alistair said after my 2-0 win, “you didn’t have your best darts, but they were good enough”. I felt pretty good, because it was the first time I remember beating him one-on-one in a money tourney. And it put me in the Championship round. Where Alistair promised we would meet again.
We did. By now it was after midnight and we had been playing and drinking since 7:00. So, rather than a test of dart skills it was more of who can throw best while intoxicated. The first leg was cricket and it was one of the strangest games I can recall. Alistair is notorious for his unorthodox cricket strategy, and this game was no different. I scored zero marks with first six darts, while he closed bulls and marked a couple of other numbers. For whatever reason, Alistair closed out the bottom half of the board (17/16/15) before I had any number closed. I figured the game was over at this point, but I kept working to close what I could and avoid being totally embarassed. Once I had closed 20s, we got into a points battle, with Alistair pounding 17s, and me answering with triple 20s. In between I kept working to close numbers and Alistair struggled on the top half of the board. When I finally hit my last bullseye for the win I was the most surprised person in the room.
Next was ’01, a game Alistair excels at. I hung with him to the end, where I was waiting to shoot for the 32 out. I’m still waiting, because Alistair hit the 40 for the win. Which took us to the deciding 3rd leg. I diddled a double bull and chose cricket. I played a solid game and Alistair struggled just enough for me to seal the victory. And take home W50,000. Well, I didn’t actually wind up taking it home, having got sucked into a card game I think is called Hula with a bargirl for drinks. Shoulda stuck with darts I guess. But it was fun regardless.
Wound up going to bed around 3:30 and was awakened at 6:30 by some kids playing in the yard of the downstairs apartment. What the hell they were doing up that early on Sunday is beyond me. I finally had to move into my guest bedroom for some quiet and much needed sleep. Woke up again at 10:30 feeling somewhat refreshed and made myself a classic American breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast, OJ and coffee. Not bad if I do say so myself.
I got an email indicating that folks at home may be worried about my state of mind these days. I guess yesterday’s post was a little disconcerting. Yes, I am going through a bit of a rough patch recently, but I am really ok. Some stressors at work and personally have occupied my mind of late, but I know that “this too shall pass”. And yeah, I have got to find a better way to relieve that stress than drinking. And I will.
No worries.
Walk on
I’m a bit disgusted with myself these days. I’m somewhat overwhelmed with a convergence of events and I am not pleased with how I am handling it. Last night I have to admit I was pretty much a drunken asshole. I got really pissed at a dart opponent and said some things I regret. Later, a friend told me about some behavoir I do not even recall, but it had pissed him off immensely. So, today I am lamenting my actions and trying to resolve to be a better person in the days to come.
Not sure how to go about that at this point, but perhaps I will be struck with some insights soon. Or not. Best I can do for now is try to pull my head out of my ass and stop worrying about what I can’t control.
I hear some people been talkin’ me down
Bring up my name, pass it round
They don’t mention the happy times
They do their thing, I do mine.
Well baby, that’s hard to change
I can’t tell them how to feel
Some get stoned, some get strange
Sonner or later it all gets real.
Walk on.
–Neil Young
New-turd
Last night the Sliders lost to our sister Dolce team, the Rubbies, 17-14.
I went 2-7 on the night, so it is easy to do the math and determine who is most responsible for the defeat.
I played all 9 legs against Dave New (singles and doubles) and threw like shit. Hence the title of this post.
Actually, Dave threw excellent darts, killing me with 6 marks. I still had my chances, but couldn’t execute.
I’m actually in general funk, and my darts are just another manisfestation of my malaise.
I think I need a break. But I see nothing on horizon that points to any forthcoming relief.
Alas.
A better Friday…
…than the last one. No drama or bloodshed. Just some nice darts at the Dolce tournament and enough beer to drown the stress of the previous week.
Jim and me were teamed up in the “early bird” tourney. I was throwing pretty much up to par but Jim was on fire. We beat Dave New and Dano pretty handily in two cricket legs (they had destroyed us in ’01). That tooks us to Tom R. and Chris H. for the championship match. When Tom heard who we had played in the first round he exclaimed “you beat those guys!?”. Yep, and then we beat Tom and Chris 2-0 to take home the money. As I said, we were throwing good darts, and being disrespected like that gave us all the motivation required to stay focused on victory.
For Prime Time we did a singles tourney which was nice for a change of pace. I played against Jim in the first round, and you take him lightly at your peril (as we had proved in the first tourney). I started out strong in cricket but he caught me on the 17s and we had a classic pointing battle the rest of the way. It came down to me hitting a double bull to finally seal the win. We had a similar struggle in ’01, Jim had worked it to a 32 out but I got the double duece before he got the chance to shoot for it.
Next up was Chris, and I took him 2-0 as well.
So, it was me and Tom R. for the championship. I opened with 7 20s and continued pointing when the situation dicatated (i.e. 3rd dart no number to close). He didn’t like it much, but I’ve seen him play that way and really, that is basic cricket strategy anyway. The ’01 game was a classic battle. Tom was throwing 60+ consistently. I had two Ton-40s to stay close. He got a couple of tries at the out, but I closed the game first and won the singles tournament, going 6-0.
Betty from XOX and a Korean contingent came in just before the start of the “Die Hard” tourney. I was pretty drunk by now, but I entered on the chance that I might draw a partner who could carry me. Teamed up with Lonnie, and damn he tried but I was too heavy a burden. I had nothing left. Plus, we drew Betty (the number 1 player in “A” division now that Petro is gone) and a tall Korean (like 6’5″) who went by “Q”. We actually hung relatively close thanks to Lonnie, but they were too much in the end and we went down 0-2. Lonnie had chalked my match with Tom and I am sure he was wondering where those 7-marks and high tons went. Oh well.
By the way, since Alistair occasionly reads this blog I should say that he is capable of being #1, but he has got to do it at oche. He’s a teammate on Sliders, so I am definitely pulling for him.
All right, enough about darts. Time to get ready for Scott’s wedding today. He’s a great guy (notwithstanding his Canadianess) and we are all looking forward to the big event.
I’ll be back…
Skinned alive
So I had the skin graft surgery yesterday. I had actually about 90% changed my mind as I figured I could clean and dress the finger until it healed up properly. But when I got there, the receptionist slapped a hospital bracelet on me, and motioned for me to follow her. So, we walk through the first floor lobby, up a flight of stairs, reverse direction and walk through pediatrics, neurosurgery (lots of people lining the walls in PJs waiting with Night of the Living Dead-like expressions. Scary.) up another flight of stairs, through some double doors, and into the surgery clinic.
Where my surgery team awaited. In our mutually limited means of communication, they were asking about anathesia and if I wanted to sleep. I said I wasn’t real keen on pain, but I would prefer to stay awake. So we agreed on a local. I reiterated that I was not staying in the hospital and the doc nodded and said “yeah, you go home”. So, I was instructed to undress and put on the surgical clothes (not one of those backless gowns thank god) and I was escorted to the operating room.
I got the full treatment. There were 3 nurses and 3 doctors. And I’m thinking how much is this going to cost me? I had called Blue Cross and although Soonchonkyang Hospital is on the preferred provider list, outpatient treatment is paid out of pocket and I file the claim afterwards for direct reimbursement. So, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen if the costs exceeded my available funds, but at this point there was no turning back.
We had agreed to take the needed skin from the same hand (that fleshy area (heel?) at the bottom of my hand. I had told the surgeon “dartsuh” and made my throwing motion and he actually understood and assured me I would be good to play in a week. So they proceed to clean up my hand. But when he cleaned the wound I about jumped out of my skin. I am sure I must have a nerve ending exposed or something, because it feels like an electrical shock in a root canal kinda way when touched. Then the doc said “injection and pain” and while the injections were in fact painful (like stepping on a nail) it was not so bad comparitively speaking. He didn’t wait too long to start messing with the finger though and I had to express my discomfort with the internationally recognized “goddamn, that hurts!”. Loudly. I’m guessing he was thinking he should have just put me to sleep, but he gave me another round of injections. Which allowed sufficient time for the first round to take effect and my hand became comfortably numb.
After that, everything was cool. It was a little disconcerting hearing everything (they had put a screen where I couldn’t watch, not that I wanted too). I didn’t catch much of the conversation of course, but it sounded an awful lot like the doctors were flirting with the nurses. Laughter from the docs and shy giggles from the nurses. Anyway, that is what I choose to believe they were talking about. I was just glad I didn’t hear “Aigo!” (roughly translates to damn. At least that is how I use it).
Took about 30 minutes. I was taken back to my clothes, told to go see the receptionship, was given a prescription and a bill for 423,000 Won (around $425.) I go back at 1100 today I think to get my head stiches looked at. Not sure what the drugs are supposed to do. If they are for pain, they don’t work. I wound taking a leftover Percocet last night and slept well. Feel pretty good today and plan to be back at work after my appointment.
Well that is the story. It seems a shame that this is the only thing I have to blog about. But I figure why not share the pain? My readers have come to expect no less.
Opening night
Well, we started the summer dart season off with a nice victory over Cake Mix, 22-9. I didn’t play particularly well, going 5-4, but the bottom line is the bottom line. So, we shall see how it goes the rest of the way. Y’all can look forward to reading all about it right hear.
Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.
Damn, that’s gonna leave a mark…
Just wanted to update y’all on the sorry state of my wounded body. Went to the doc today to get cleaned and rewrapped, and when the bandage came off the finger (painfully) I was still bleeding. Doctor says I need surgery, which I understand to be a skin graft of some type or another. Get this: he recommended I stay in hospital 2 or 3 days! I said bullshit (well, I was more polite than that) and he said ok, you just have to come back everyday. Which I guess is an acceptable compromise.
Strange how in the USA they won’t keep you overnight unless you are knocking on death’s door. Here, they admit you for a hangnail it seems. Another difference is those little niceties like taking blood pressure and temprature, asking about allergies or what other medications you are taking just isn’t done. I took three shots of something in the ass on Saturday but have no inkling what they were. I have no known allergies, but hell, they didn’t know that. It just doesn’t inspire confidence somehow.
Oh well. Going in at 1400 tomorrow. Don’t know if they intend to knock me out or not, but I am not real keen on watching skin extracted from my (thigh?) and reattached to my pinky. Plus the inability to interact coherently is a bit disconcerting. I guess I should spend tonight learning to say things like “I can’t breathe” or “that hurts like a sonofabitch” or other handy phrases appropriate (try typing appropriate with a bandaged right pinky sometime) to the situation.
Instead I am going to play darts. It’s opening night of the summer season!
Last night had me in stiches…
…but it was no laughing matter.
In fact, it was deja vu all over again.
I had a blackout, hit the floor, and now have stiches in my head and an f’d up finger.
Really strange, because I don’t remember a thing. One minute I am sitting at the bar having a pleasant conversation, the next thing I know I am being picked up off a bloody floor.
I’m told I started coughing and stood up and then went down for the count. No idea what is up with that.
I didn’t go to the hospital last night as suggested, but when I woke this morning my finger was throbbing. I tried to take the bandage off, but the slightest touch brought on searing pain. My head looked ok, as that wound had already scabbed over. But I walked over to the hospital convienently located in my neighborhood to get my pinky looked at.
Of course, they just ripped the bandage right off which was incredibly painful and started some pretty impressive bleeding. After cleaning it up I could see that I didn’t have a cut finger, rather it was as if some had taken a filet knife and sliced an inch off. Sorry to say, when the doc started probing around I screamed like a banjee. Worse pain I can remember. So, they wrapped it up and I go back Monday for another looksee and cleaning. Which means I get to re-experience the joy of having the bandage removed.
The also stiched up my head which comparitively speaking was a piece of cake. And three injections in the ass. Not my idea of a great Saturday morning to be sure.
If there is a silver lining, it occurred to me that if death comes like a blackout it won’t be bad at all. One minute you are there having a nice chat and the next your gone. No worries at all.
Out on the weekend
Not a bad one, all things considered.
Friday night was the regular Dolce Vita darts tournament. Chris H. and I played about as bad as you can play without losing. We wound up “good” enough for a first place finish. My partner in the second tourney was a little off (to be charitable). You know, in a blind draw format I just accept who I get without complaint. Lord knows I get a solid partner as least as often as a weak one. But damn, it is one thing to get a beginner and another thing to get a beginner who won’t take advice. And I don’t mean advice on technique, I mean basic darts strategy. For example, we had an 18 out (yeah, that was my doing, sue me) and he hits a single 9. No problem. I suggest a 1 double 4 but he tells me he doesn’t like the double four and throws a 3. Well, a 6 out is an out but it is fraught with peril. I of course proceeded to hit a 3, but salvaged a win with the good fortune of hitting the 1 double 1. Not that it mattered because we then got smoked in the cricket leg for a first round exit.
Anyway, I got Alistair for the 3rd tourney (see the good/bad does even out) and we played some decent games for the win.
Between tourneys, a couple of acquaintences from work came in and sat at the bar next to me. After they left the bar girls were laughing and talking in Korean and I said what’s so funny? They said “we have never noticed you were handsome before we saw you next to those two guys.” I am sure they didn’t realize that they had paid me an insult rather than a compliment, but that’s sorta the way things are in Korea. You either laugh or get bitter. Life is too short for bitterness, right?
Several hours later I encountered the same two gentlemen in Grand Ol’ Opry. They were feeling no pain (well, I am sure they were the next morning). Discretion and the rules of Itaewon preclude me from saying anything more about their antics.
Saturday night was the bachelor party for one of my Canadian buds, Von Jackass (aka Scott). We had the back room, 3 kegs of beer, and Seung Youb on the grill. Well, SY wasn’t on the grill, the pork and chicken wings were, but you get my meaning. If inebriation is a measure of having a good time, Scott was the happiest guy on Earth that night. After one of the many toasts in his honor I told him that there are only two times in a man’s life when he doesn’t understand women. Before marriage and after marriage. I noticed a lot of head nodding, so I guess it must be true. But then I was talking to a room full of drunk men, so who knows?
Later, Grant, Alistair, Matt and me (4/5s of next season’s version of Sliders) moseyed over to Blue Frog to throw some darts. We paired up and played some doubles for money and wound up splitting two sets, which was where we chose to put the darts away for the night. Sharp pointed things and drunks are not a safe and sane combination, not that we cared.
After a lazy Sunday playing CIV IV (did I mention I got my high score? I did.) I figured I would go out and, yep, you guessed it, throw some darts. There was a wedding party for Daniel at Dolce so I just said my hellos and moved on. Bless U was having some event that seemed to involve Formula 1 racing and Nigerians, so I didn’t even climb the stairs. Manila wasn’t open yet. Which left me with 3 Alley Pub as the best remaining option.
Turned out to be a good choice because my English buddy Neil was sitting at the bar and we had a nice chat whilst waiting for a dart board to open up. Neil is one of those “lucky” few who actually read my pathetic blog. Better yet, he purports to like it! That’s actually how we met as it was a friend of his that I saw fall out of a moving taxi which made for one of my great moments in blogging (I wasn’t kidding when I said this is a pathetic blog!). Anyway, he proceeded to ply me with shots of Jagermeister (which makes me gag, but good manners dictate that I accept the generous offer when made). After 3 or 4 I had a pretty good buzz going and Rodney and I threw same nice games. His darts have really improved the past year or so and I told him he needed to get his ass up to “A” division where it belongs.
Given that us Americans had to work on a Korean National Holiday (Buddha’s birthday), I made it an early night and journeyed back home (stopping for a beer at Manila Bar on the way).
And that my friends is the story of my weekend. Don’t hate me because I have such an outstanding life. Some of us are just born lucky. Or not.