Thursday, December 18, 2014

Serious Adjustment

“I’m not drinking a lot tonight,” says the Editor.

“Oh, good; neither am I. I think I’ll just have a vodka and club soda.”

“I’m going to be such a girl, I’m having an appletini.”

It had been at least a year since our last get-together, one in which I sat in a restaurant overlooking the rushing streets of Seoul. This dinner in Seoul was on a different rushing street, both of us running late, both of us managing to be on time by being late. The Editor had picked a Mediterranean place for us to consume food. We talked about work, life, and living while working. She was traveling in opposite directions around the globe, and I was most likely looking to be traveling in directions around the globe soon as well.

It had been a year, but it felt like less time had passed. Perhaps because as with my lady love, even though we were on separate sides of the globe we still engaged in conversation. We still managed to see each other, hang out, talk and chat, and so time and distance only separated our corporeal selves; everything else was the same. Therein lies the secret to maintaining the connections we make: giving them life and breath even when they are strained by time and distance.

“Well, I have to go watch my boy play darts.”

“I’ll come hang out. I can have one more drink.”

So we walked down to Dillingers for one more drink. Which turned into one more vodka club double. Which turned into three more vodka club doubles. Which turned into me telling tawdry stories out of school to one of the Editor's employees, amusing him with tales that are both real and ridiculous.

“And of course I have been busy in New York.”

“What have you been doing?”

I show the Editor a picture on my camera.

“I can’t even take that seriously.” We both laugh and order another round.

The bar is warm and cozy on a Monday night. Like many an expat bar in Korea it is full of people and activity.

“I came in here on Saturday to watch the game, and started drinking at 10:00. I was home and passed out by four. I don’t even remember. I drank them out of Clamato though, and then I got in a fight and punched some guy out at Stoogies.”

“And you can’t take ME seriously?”

We giggle and laugh and have a selfie-posting contest before finally (around midnight) I realize that the jetlag is winning, I’m not exactly sure where I'm staying, and I have had perhaps one vodka too many. I wish her and her love goodbye and tell the ahjussi to take me where I need to go.

Seoul lights up around my taxi as it winds through the damp cold streets toward foriegnerville, a sleeping woman, another night home, and another night closer to leaving.


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Are you still in Korea?

Geof