Saturday, September 15, 2007


The night is busy full of people. So many people. I go up the flight of stairs to the small bathroom there are two boys in the there. One disappears behind the curtain.

“Fuck Rugby, it’s gay.”

“Yeah, for sure.”

“Do you watch Rugby?”


“It’s not a real sport. Like you know, a real sport, what kind of sport do you think is real?”

“Like shooting skeet?”

“Yeah, that’s real. I like to shoot. You shoot?”

“Yeah, All the time.”

“Where are you from?”

Minnesota. You?”


“Shit, really, I didn’t know Canadians shoot guns, you are all like, fags aren’t you.”

“Not really, we don’t watch Rugby.”

“Yeah, Rugby, it’s a gay sport.”

I’m amused and as the boys from Minnessota and Canada share stories about growing up with shotguns I push my way back to a seat and a drink, but the cluster and the crowd and the heat are unsettling for me, so I say goodnight to barman and leave the Lonely Hearts Club which is not so Lonely tonight. It is full of fools and I hit the streets, damp from passing rains.

I wear red, pretty, clothing, in the night it glows red, in the night it is so red, in the night I cannot hide, so I walk the gauntlet of Koreans on the street. Koreans in various states, Koreans forming circles for their own personal fight club. Men stand to one side and women to the other and they whisper as I pass. Two walk up and get in my way, a girl walking alone at two in the morning.

I’m from Chicago. I keep my back straight and my eyes forward. I walk slowly, no hurry, not afraid. I am completely aware of my surroundings. Two Koreans up front, getting ready to come and harass me, two girls behind me on the left, a man vomiting behind me on the right, I do no pay any attention to it and I am acutely aware of all of it. Another group of men up before I cross the next street, soon to the bar, I just want to get to the next place, friends, pool, good times at two a.m.

The stairs up are cool and the chatter that comes up is full of wit and wisdom.

Two men sit at a table.

“Good and Evil is a choice. You can choose to be good or evil, that’s what free will is all about. The problem is you don’t make a choice.”

“That’s bullshit, I made a choice, I’m good.”

“No, you like appearances. You don’t choose anything. You resent anyone who does.”

“Fuck choice.”

I choose to continue drinking vodka and listen to the conversations. I play a game a pool and win once, twice and then again.

The night wears on and I am left alone with the taller of the two men.

“And what else is there?” he asks me?

“That’s the thing. I’m not sure.”

“Is this it, is this all there is. I never thought this is where I would be, it seems so strange, that it should be, this isn’t…”

“It’s okay man. It’s okay, It’s Korea.”

“Yeah, I…hey, do you watch rugby?”

“No not really.”

“That’s cool, rugby is for fags.”


kodeureum said...

No. Basketball and baseball are for fags. Any team sport where you're not allowed to bump into your opponents or vent a little aggression with a spot of violence is sincerely gay. Quick, let me add soccer to that list. Now those are fighting words! :-)

Saradevil said...

I've personally always thought that football was more than a little gay. And golf is extremely gay. Men should not be that obsessed with a wardrobe related to the hitting of small balls.

I think there are very few inherently un-gay sports. Maybe synchronized swimming?

kodeureum said...

The biathlon always struck as a sport that would attract the strictly outdoorsy-type. Shooting at things with a rifle and then cross-country skiing to the next things needing to be shot at.

The rotary with an express bus stop near me in Ulsan is a good hour and fiteen minutes away from Dongdaegu station by bus. Not long enough a ride to become boring but certainly long enough to enjoy a refreshing nap. Those music students are attractive, aren't they? :-)

kodeureum said...

f**k me, I meant to type "struck me"