Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Farewell to Body Paints, Hello Alcohol!

"I don't think we are going the right way," I say as we continue to walk. We are about five minutes from where we have started, but I'm pretty sure we are not heading in a direction that is toward either beer or civilization.

"No," says the Irish, "this is definitely the right way."

"How do you know?"

"I have beer-dar."

"We are so screwed." And yet as we crested the next hill and turned the next corner, sure enough there was a bar awaiting us. And it was even the bar we were looking for.

"Magical," I say. "Let's get booze and food; we've got about an hour."

So in we go to the Wa-bar, which is sort of like a Korean bar meets a western bar that can be very popular with foreigners but is mostly just a good place to get booze. The boys order beers, I order a tequila, and we go through the menu trying to find things I can eat that the boys will enjoy. A cheese plate, some chicken, and a gigantic order of potatoes for the Irish later and we are settled in. Irish, who has been complaining about his dirty shirt for the last two hours decides to go into the bathroom and make a quick change into one of the free T-shirts we got for attending the Body Painting festival event.

He goes into the bathroom and when he comes out the Trainee and I are discussing the varying nature of Korean Wa-bars. We look at the Irish. He looks at us.

"So what do you think?" he asks as he settles into the bar.

The Trainee and I are both noticing two things. It's the same two things. I'm not sure which of us is going to snap first and mention the two things to the Irish.

"Well, I don't know about the fit, but your nipples are sure pert and firm," says the Trainee. Kudos for me for holding out.

"I don't know," I say, "I'm sure they could get stiffer."

"Let's find out," says the Trainee, holding his recently acquired cold beer up to the Irish's nipples. I grab my camera, as I want to preserve the evidence for posterity. Having ascertained that the Irish did in fact look tidier if with more nipple action we turned back to the matter at hand. Mostly drinking.

I turn to my tequila and take a sip.

"Ah, yeah, no." I call the  waitress over and ask her want kind of tequila they have given me and she holds up a bottle of Durango. I do not know where Durango comes from, or why it exists at all. I do know that it is pretty popular in bars here because it is cheaper than tequila. That is because Durango is Tequila-flavored liquor. I do not care for tequila-flavored liquor. I do not want to be served tequila-flavored liquor under most circumstances. I find the stuff evil. Add to that my recently developed issued with processing gluten and I have to be careful which booze I drink. I do better with something not from potatoes or rye, or wheat. Which makes tequila my drink of choice pretty much every day of the year anymore. And I don't know what 80 proof liquor is the basis for the Durango, but what I do know is I don't want to be paying to drink it.

Plus when the girl shoes me the bottle I note that there are several dozen dead bugs floating in the bottle of the liquor. Whee...

I call the girl over and show her the bottle. To which at first she is confused but finally understands my dilemma. I needed a reason to send the drink back that goes beyond my hatred of Durango. We ask if she doesn't have any tequila we can have. She points back to the Durango bottle. I ask for Jose, sweet goddess, just give me some Jose.

And they have Jose.

If I want to buy the bottle.

I'm not really fussed on buying the bottle to get the three or four shots I want. The boys try to convince me. Finally I ask how much. 70,000 won (80 dollars) for the bottle.

Uh-huh. I start to sulk.

"Just buy it, we will take it with," offers the Irish.

"I'll think about it."  I hold out for five seconds before slapping cold plastic on the table and spending 70,000 won on a bottle of Jose Cuervo. It seemed like a very good idea at the time. Food comes and is eaten, alcohol is drunk. I manage to dent about five shots into my bottle before we realize it is time to go and pack up to head off. In the packing I drop the bottle of tequila into my bag, along with a shot glass. May as well get my money's worth at this point.

We head out and back down the street, and over the hill, and through the woods, back to the festival and hopefully making it just in time to check out the art from the international artists. At first, probably because of the alcohol coursing through our veins, we thought it would be a good idea to go and try to offer the Artist a shot of tequila. But being that he is A) insanely busy and B) running
toward the stage, that gets declined pretty quickly.

We head toward the international tent again but only manage to run into the model finally finished and decked out merrily in her sinew; she happily offers to have her picture taken with me which I am eager to do. Granted I had the Trainee snap the shot and for some reason his steadiness was starting to wane as I got a couple of somewhat blurry photos of the event for posterity. We shuffle off down the hill a bit and grab some seats looking over the stage to wait for the next event. My phone rings and it's the Artist, so I tell the boys to stay, and head back to meet him at the tent. He explains that we have missed his part of the show, which I truly lamented, and the artists are now mostly finished but there will be some kind of after party.

I ask if I can come and am told yes.

I ask if I can bring the boys and am told to hold on.

Eventually it is all worked out and we manage to score invitations to the after party. The Artist says I'll get a call when it's time to meet and goes back to getting his gear packaged and put away. I head back to the boys, which sadly also means heading directly into the sound waves of the Korean band on stage that is belting out Pantera is if it's life depended on it. I'm not exactly sure why the band on stage was playing Pantera, but this was apparently very appealing. Nothing like a headbanging ajjuma.

Eventually even with the change from heavy metal Korean band to Koreans doing gypsy belly dancing we three decide that our eardrums can no longer take the damage and work our way back up the hill a bit to wait for whatever festivities are coming.

"Any idea where the party is going to be at?" asks the Irish.

"You know as much as I do."

"Could be fun," puts in the Trainee.

"It's sure to be an adventure." I say.

At this point we all sigh. Where has adventuring gotten us thus far?







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