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Tequila, the Russian and Superstars
I had started drinking around four in the afternoon, which is not
always a good decision to make. However it seemed like the thing to do,
and I did it. Then I ended up passing out with a snoring dog until about
eleven when I woke up pretty much sober and thought “I should go out.” I
expressed the intention to the dog who raised one eyebrow at me in a
manner that very clearly stated “The fuck you say!” and went back to
sleep.
At that point, though, I knew I was mostly likely going to go out. My
heart was lonely, I needed the Lonely Hearts Club. So I threw on some
clothes, left the dog in possession of the bed, and hit a cab for a a
bar.
The Lonely Hearts Club was exactly who I like it to be on a Saturday
night. There was me, a small group in the corner drinking, and Hyunshik.
That is pretty much all I need to be content at the Lonely Hearts.
Hyunshik takes a look at me and gives me the bottle of tequila and my
shot glass and I start to take care of the drinking problem.
Aside from the loneliness of my heart, my other purpose for the trip was
to talk to Hyun about tickets to a show. This was most important since
the show as happening on Wednesday and I wanted to be sure to be there.
The last tickets did not work out so well, and I would be damned if I
let another concert I really wanted to see in Seoul pass me by.
The difficult thing was the convergence of the show I wanted to see with
the Lunar New Year. The Lunar New Year being what it is meant traveling
would be difficult. Traveling on the train at the best of times can be a
pain in the ass, but for the New Year people have a tendency to book
tickets on the train months in advance. Since the New Year was falling
from Sunday to Tuesday it meant a five day weekend, and lots of
traveling.
Apparently Wednesday was also a busy day because when I looked to get a
ticket for the show I wanted to see every single train from 5a.m. to
Midnight from Daegu to Seoul was sold out. Not the high speed train or
the slow, no, there was not a train running on tracks that was not just
booked but overbooked. These trains were going to run with people
standing in the aisles. Every single seat, corner, booth, cubbyhole, and
bathroom had been sold solid. I managed to score two reservations one
from Daegu to Daejon at six in the morning and one from Daejon to Seoul
that would leave at seven and was feeling pretty clever.
Granted I didn’t want to go Seoul at six a.m. but I was not going to
miss this show. At the Lonely Hearts I began to explain to Hyun my
problem.
“I can get you at ticket,” he says and heads to the computer.
Good luck with that.
Five minutes late.
“Holy shit, every train is sold out.”
“I know, that’s what I said.”
“I think I can still get you a later ticket.”
“If you can do that, than go for it. I’ll pick it up on Tuesday.”
The plan would be a Lonely Tuesday night meeting where I would get
concert tickets, train tickets and prepare myself to the Wednesday
concert.
Having arranged this I went back to my bottle of Jose, when the Russian
who had been drinking in the corner with his friends finally spots me.
The friends have left. The population of the bar is now four.
“Sara! How are you?”
“I’m good. How are you? How is the KGB?” We have joked with the Russian
for years that he is secretly KGB, however, while a joke, I think
sometimes it is probably closer to true than we all like to believe.
“It’s good, it’s good,” he grabs me arms and pulls me close and whispers
in my ear “we almost lost the atomic bomb, dah?” He pushes me away and
orders a drink.
“But you didn’t?” I ask.
“Didn’t what?” He smiles and nods his head and two beers are set down one for him and one for me. Mine goes to Hyun.
“Etta James died.” I tell Hyun.
“No. What?”
Hyun pulls out a vinyl copy of Etta James with a little band and we stare at it.
“I can’t play it, though, the needle is broken.”
“Seriously?”
“They are getting harder to get in Korea.”
We stare at the album and finally select the blasphemy of pulling up some songs on the computer.
“Oh, this is good music,” The Russian says. “But, no, we need the record. Play the record.”
Hyun and I explain the problem again. The Russian who is staggering
drunk listens but doesn’t really hear us. He listens and comments on how
good the music is again, and then asks for the vinyl again, and Hyun
and I do the same song and dance again, and we go round.
“No. Niet. Play Jesus Christ Superstar! It is the best rock opera. We need rock opera!”
“I already played it,” Hyun reminds him.
“Play it again.”
“No.”
We three of sit around the bar, while the second bar tender cleans
glasses. We listen to Etta James, which turns into Billy Holiday, and
Duke Ellington, and Ottis Redding, and Howling Wolf. We drink from our
bottles and let our lives weigh on us and the wooden bar. There is never
a trip wasted to the Lonely Hearts.
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