EXPAT Hell

Low Down, Dirty Gothic Spinster

Posted on May 17, 2012 by The Expat

It’s time to conclude the healing process. It’s time to drive the final nail into the coffin. It’s time to bury this bitch for good. It’s time my reader learned how the Gothic Spinster problem finally came to an end.

Gothic Spinster Primer:

The Gothic Spinster is a real. The Gothic Spinster was an actual student that I once had when I taught English at an Adult hagwon. She was a mentally unbalanced, violent sociopath. The Gothic Spinster stories are 100% true and can be corroborated by other individuals who are still living in Korea.

Part 1 Weirdos and Whackjobs I’ve met in Korea # 2: The Gothic Spinster
Part 2 ESL Anecdotes from Korea # 5: The Gothic Spinster Revisited
Part 3 Gothic Spinster Resurrection
Part 4 Gothic Spinster Infestation
Part 5 Gothic Spinster: A History of Violence
Part 6 Gothic Spinster: The Saga Continues
Part 7 A Teacher’s Worst Nightmare: The Student Stalker

Summer time, 2007. It’s hot and humid, and Seoul feels and smells like the tail end of a car’s exhaust pipe. Sweat is pouring and I’m fighting the urge to unbutton my shirt half way and roll my slacks up to my knees as I walk to my evening class. The subway was like a sauna, and the smell couldn’t be described if I tried. I pass a group of high school girls standing around outside of a Familymart, eating ice-cream and giggling.

Normally summers in Seoul are all miniskirts and smiles. In fact, in the summer, our academy would keep stacks of little blankets on a shelf in the hallway, because many of the women would come to class wearing skirts so short, that simply sitting down in a chair resulted in their panties being exposed to everyone -regardless of how desperately they tried to cross their legs. Thats how short the skirts are in Korea. So short that the girl wearing the skirt can’t even sit down while wearing it. Sweet Jesus, what a country!

These are the same women who get angry when men stare at them. They don’t like being stared at, but their skirts are so short that they have to cover their panties with their handbag while walking up stairs, or throw a blanket over their lap whenever they sit down. And I’m the dirty one for staring at this idiotic situation that women here choose to put themselves in, right? I’ve never figured this out, but I’m not going to complain about it either. The only way that skirts could get any shorter in Korea is if the women stopped wearing them all together and simply walked around in bikinis (don’t stare at me, I’m not a slut!) Summer in Seoul, fun times.

In no other country in the world have I seen women who required coochie blankets because their skirts were too short for them to properly sit down in a chair. God damn I love this country! One of my male frat-boy coworkers once grabbed the coochie blankets and hid them before the evening class rush began, and you can only imagine the terror on these women’s faces when they arrived at the academy to find the an empty space where the coochie blankets had once been stored.

Invariably, the classiest and trendiest of women will come prepared with their own coochie blankets tucked away in their purses, but those women who relied upon the supply of coochie blankets at the school were squirming and sweating nervously in their seats and finally resorted to just covering their panties with their hands. Holy suffering Christ on the cross, I love this fucking place sometimes!

Of course when I arrive at the academy, grab my books and proceed into my classroom, the Gothic Spinster is sitting there bundled up in winter gear with the aircon turned down to 18 degrees. She’s wearing a long-sleeved sweater, jeans, a black leather jacket and a scarf, in the fucking summer! She’s trying to make her short-skirt-wearing classmates as miserable as possible because that’s what crazy anti-social stalker bitches will do to you if left unchecked. None of the other students dare get up to turn down the A/C because they’ve seen the Gothic Spinster blow up before, and by this point in time, everyone knows that she has attacked another student on the stairs, and has threatened others.

Class begins and the Gothic Spinster remains silent for the most part. I didn’t know it at the time, but this would be her last class at the Academy. She had literally come to every class, every single day, for the duration of my contract. We tried to get her booted from the academy once after she assaulted another student, but that didn’t work and as revenge, this crazy bitch signed up for nearly all of my classes. I’d see her in the morning, and then again at night, and then again on fucking Saturday. I got a female teacher to replace me on Saturday because I couldn’t take it anymore and when the Gothic Spinster found out about it, she flipped out and not only yelled at the female teacher, but complained about it to the front desk and made post after post about it on the Academy’s website. She was being deprived of her white man. I was her property, she had paid for white male meat, and she wasn’t going to put up with a female teacher switched in to the mix.

Class goes as expected. Students are mostly on edge because the Gothic Spinster is making strange sounds and staring at the wall. She sometimes asked strange/fucked up/inappropriate questions so by this point in time I’d developed a way of teaching that pretty much precluded her from speaking at all. Not the most effective way to teach a language class, but at the same time, this bitch told stories about peeling the skin off her sister’s face with an Italy towel, and throwing rocks at drowning dogs. Plus her English level was far lower than other students, because she was enrolled in a class that was way over her head. The less she spoke in class, the better it was for everyone else.

The end of class comes and the Gothic Spinster jumps up and is first to the door. This is rare and I’m caught off guard because she usually loiters until all the other students leave, and proceeds to ask me questions like “Teachuh, why the you the no returned my the emails?” or “Teachuh, I thought you the man good, it was, but I wrong? You not the like me? I wait you outside, but why the not I see?” Her English was so piss-poor, so fractured, so broken, so agonizingly horrific that the only reason I understood it was that I’d been exposed to it for so long.

The Gothic Spinster reaches the door, turns around 180 degrees and announces aloud to the entire class “Teachuh not talk about me to another teachuh!!” and then gives me the ice-rail stare of death. The rest of the class freezes up and jaws drop. This bitch has such a scary face that her face alone probably stops traffic on the streets. She has a giant almost western-stereotype nose bolted to a small, scowling face with about two kilograms of foundation and other garbage makeup piled on top of it. When she moves her mouth, the foundation holding her face together starts to crack, and I’m thinking that might have been part of the reason she never talked much (that, and the fact that she was a psychopath).

It should be noted at this point that never once had I actually mentioned the GS to another teacher within the confines of our academy. Our schedules were staggered so teachers rarely if ever crossed paths in the hallways, and we mostly communicated via text message or by leaving notes on each others desks. It is no secret that other teachers were quietly talking about the Gothic Spinster. If you had a psycho-bitch stone cold criminal stalker coming into your office every day, you’d probably talk about it too. Anyway, as her only teacher, the GS was convinced that I was the source of all fodder fueling the water cooler Gothic Spinster rumor mill.

After all that time in an English class, the Gothic Spinster’s Swan Song consisted of “Teachuh not talk about me to another teachuh” Even her melodramatic exit was a complete English failure. Rarely had I seen someone pour so much time and money into learning English, only to come out the other end of the tunnel with absolutely nothing to show for it. If she was paying what was normally charged, I estimate she sunk over $4000 into her English learning “hobby” and wasted approximately 700 hours of my time, her time and the time of everyone who sat in class to watch the circus freak-show. $4000 USD, 700 man hours, flushed down the toilet completely.

I show up to work the next day. The air is light. The staff and other teachers are smiling. The students look relaxed and the Gothic motherfucking Spinster is gone. Whatever happened behind closed doors to get this bitch out of the school was completely unknown to me. One thing was for sure; the complaints from other (Korean) students and (Korean) staff finally reached critical mass and action was taken. I imagined the Gothic Spinster sitting at home stewing about the situation, plotting revenge. This woman was so scary that the (Korean) teachers didn’t even want to go outside of the Academy alone after class finished at night, for fear of being assaulted by the GS. She was that crazy.

I walked the halls for a few days in a tense state, fearing that the Gothic Spinster would pop out of one of the doorways with a kitchen knife and butcher me on the spot. I approached my classroom door, hand shaking as I turned the knob and peered in to see which students were waiting for me. She was gone. She wasn’t coming back.

When a great war finishes, a strange thing often happens; instead of celebrating, the victors often break down and sob uncontrollably, reflecting upon the carnage and destruction wreaked by the evils of mankind. That’s exactly how I felt when the Gothic Spinster vanished never to return. First tears, then understanding, then hope and reconstruction and finally a hesitant kind of forward progress only seen in the months and years after a country has been completely decimated by war. People hesitate to act quickly after a war is over, because they don’t know if the war is actually over, or if the fighting has just ceased momentarily. And that’s exactly how I reacted. I went to class for days and days, expecting to see the GS, expecting the war to resume.

The students’ attitudes changed, and things became positive and productive. I got back into the loop after about a week and was teaching as if the GS had never entered my life. It was at this point that I showed up for work in the morning and was summoned to a meeting room where my boss, the academy’s owner, several staff members and a few foreign teachers had gathered. The GS had filed a complaint of “Criminal Slander” against every single staff member at the Academy for “talking behind her back” and we were all to report to the police station together, but first our boss wanted to check our cell phones to make sure there was no incriminating evidence stored, like text messages. My reader should note that Korea has an almost feudal legal system whereby anyone can sue anyone else for simply hurting their feelings or “damaging” their “reputation” as the locals like to refer to it.

Of course, 99% of these lawsuits are baseless wastes of time for everyone involved, and the burden of proof lies with the person whining to the police. These types of laws exist partly to protect powerful criminals from being outed as criminals. Works out very nicely actually, especially if you have lots of skeletons in your closet that you don’t want people talking about.

So we head down to the police station. And long story short, the GS is basically told to fuck off unless she has some sort of concrete evidence of her claims (like witnesses, or video tapes clearly showing faces); the police aren’t even going to file the paperwork. A few (Korean) female teachers are stewing around in the waiting area, staring at the GS and very loudly insulting her within earshot of everyone. The police ignore this and tell us that we are free to leave. For a moment I can’t believe I’m actually sitting in a police station in the same room as the Gothic Spinster. Fuck this woman. Who is she anyway? For a moment, I contemplate reaching over the counter and choking her to death but then have second thoughts after I realize that her face is caked with tons of plaster-white make up, and I don’t want to get my hands dirty. There’s a time and place for everything I suppose.

There was silence as we took taxis back to The Academy. That was the last day that any of us ever saw the Gothic Spinster, at least for a long time

Gothic Spinster Epilogue:

The Gothic Spinster is now a distant memory. She’s probably sitting in someone’s English classroom right now, making their life hell on earth. She’s probably stalking some poor 22 year old fresh off the plane ESL instructor at some other academy not far from the one I quit years ago. She’s 5 years older and the makeup is probably piled on even thicker. Like many sociopaths, the Gothic Spinster derived some type of secondary emotional payoff from disrupting the lives of people around her, and later, bizarrely by trying to play the victim.

In my years of impersonating an ESL teacher, I never once encountered anyone as remotely disturbing as the Gothic Spinster, not even by a long shot. I’d had students who were annoying, or irritating, or whom I hated, but the Gothic Spinster was leaps and bounds beyond any of that. People have actually sent me hate mail for writing about the Gothic Spinster. There are actually women out there who read about the Gothic Spinster, see parts of themselves reflected through her actions, and then get all pissed and write me hate mail letters telling me what a bad man I am, and how I’m too judgmental. (Like, oh my gawd, it’s a middle aged woman getting ostracized for being ‘different’!) Bullshit, sister. Once you get someone manically stalking your ass 24/7 for an entire year, then you can tell me about being “judgmental”.

The Gothic Spinster left not long before my contract was up and I kissed teaching English goodbye forever. For the remaining weeks of my contract, I enjoyed every last day of the remaining summer. Subway saunas, micro-mini skirts, coochie blankets, freezing cold air-con, smiles, giggles and ice cream cones.

Posted in The Expat, The Gothic Spinster | 14 Comments

Lackadaisical

Posted on May 14, 2012 by The Expat

10:30pm and I’m feeling like I’ve forgotten something. I scroll through my inbox and check the progress on a few projects that were recently started. At the bottom of an email from one of my employees, I see highlighted the phrase “Oh yeah, and by the way, would you mind paying us now?”

I knew I’d forgotten something. My long time employees, with their easy-going and polite dispositions had gone two full days beyond their normal pay day before sending a polite email with the above line highlighted at the bottom. If I were a hagwon owner, my employees would probably be down at the Labor Office right now trying to string me up, but of course the joke would be on them as the Labor Office can’t force Korean employers to do ANTYHING.

10:45pm: I am now on my bicycle, a plastic familymart bag filled with cash tied around the handle bars. I don’t want to run to the bank, because people who run with bags full of money look like criminals, so instead I take the bicycle, which I haven’t ridden since last summer (note, people who ride bicycles can be trusted unconditionally, just like people who wear business suits, or drive expensive cars). I’m trying to get to the bank before the ATM machines turn off at 11:00pm. I’ve lived in Korea for 8 years now, and I still don’t have online banking. I’m too lazy to set it up, and rarely have the use for it (except for tonight, of course).

I arrive at the bank and start stuffing bills into the machine and then wiring them out to the accounts of my loyal and hardworking employees. What kind of person simply forgets to pay their employees? A forgetful, irresponsible person I suppose. Friday was payday for my army of loyal staff, however the events from Friday evening up until Sunday afternoon remain somewhat of a blur for me.

11:00pm: Employees paid, I’m feeling pretty enthusiastic about riding my piece of crap bicycle around the neighborhood a bit. I head over to Homeplus, which is open 24 hours. I note that they have now started to carry Maguire’s car care products, though they cost almost exactly double what they cost back in the USA. I stop by the Familymart closest to my house and note that The Girl Who Never Smiles is working, well not actually working, but sitting behind the counter reading a book that she has wrapped the covers with in brown paper. I guess that whatever she is reading, she wishes to keep a secret. I imagine it is probably a book about bisexual vampires who cut themselves because they are depressed. Her fingernails are painted black, as usual.

I stare through the glass at the beer on offer in the refrigerators. It occurs to me that beer may have been one of the factors that lead to my forgetting to pay my employees two days ago. I decide against beer and instead buy an energy drink which is essentially a Lotte rip-off of Red Bull. The Girl Who Never Smiles rings up my drinks without making eye contact. She is clearly in the grips of whatever she was reading, as she is still trying to read it while counting out the change by touch. No eye contact, no smile, no thankyous. If I ever receive eye contact, a smile or a ‘thank you’ from The Girl Who Never Smiles, I will know that the Earth has fallen off of its axis.

I stare at the front page of the local Korean language “newspaper” which seems to show a picture of several law makers partying hard and engaging in lots of what the locals refer to as “skinship” at a local nightclub. In fact I think I may have seen these guys at Club Answer on Friday night:

Members of Korean political parties, partying hard at Club Answer

Last Night was "Boyz Nite" at Club Answer

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

About the Expat Hell Forums

Posted on May 11, 2012 by The Expat

I’m getting tired of deleting new forum membership applications, so let me explain how access to the private forum works on this site. I know my reader is suffering with great bouts of anticipation, waiting to see what exactly is happening on the most exclusive, ultra-elite, limited membership, expat forums that have ever existed. I know my reader is positively green with envy at those very few and select individuals who have gained access to the forums and elevated themselves up above all of the riff-raff that exists outside the gilded boundaries of our own private online country club.

This is to be expected, after all – how many forums have created such conflict and such controversy before even going live to the general public? I mean, what kind of forum could possibly generate legal threats and foot stomping, arm-crossing hissy fits before even going live to the public? In what other forum can you rub shoulders among expat business owners, TV and radio personalities, artists, musicians, university professors, Korean Americans, Korean Canadians, Parents of children born in Korea, F2, F5, F6, and D8 visa holders, and even a few ESL teachers with regular old E2 visas? Where else does such a place exist?

Where else can you freely speak your mind without being banned? You’re tired of overly aggressive moderators on crazy bullied-as-a-child power trips, aren’t you? You’re tired of sifting through thread after thread newbie new-to-Korea bullshit, aren’t you? I feel you. I started writing in the first place because nothing I was reading in or about Korea was interesting to me. For essentially the same reason, we now have a forum to exchange ideas in a more efficient way.

The Bad News

I’ll give it to you straight my friends, because I don’t like to beat around the bush: You can’t join the forums unless you know someone who is already a member. There is no specific visa requirement, nor is there any specific requirement about time spent in Korea, or field of employment. You simply have to ask a current member to vouch for you.

Now I know some of you are thinking that it’s not “fair” and it’s not “right” to exclude people without getting to know them first, and I can see where you are coming from. But a private forum is exactly that; a private place where people can express themselves freely without fear of persecution. Think of it as a private party. Think of it as an after-hours club for members only. I’m sorry it has to be that way, but don’t lose hope.

We will be actively recruiting members to the non-stop party. If you know someone who is already a member, just email them and ask for an invite. We have members in several different fields of employment, and in several different areas of Korea. Any current member is free to bring new members onboard, provided they are willing to stake their membership on the quality of the person they are inviting.

If you are a registered and verified member of the geoju.kr website (for F-visa holders, no affiliation), you may be fast-tracked for membership to this forum, but again, visa status is not a determining factor for members here, and we have members who are E2 visa holders, and other members who are not even residing in Korea anymore. Some members are simply long term readers of this blog, or people who have linked to this blog from their own site.

Please don’t ask about membership. If someone is willing to vouch for you, you will be contacted and told what to do. In the future a rigorous membership application process will be introduced (you must provide a urine sample, DNA sample, current untouched photographs from two angles, character references, a writing sample, a signed notarized apostilled statement of allegiance, as well as providing proof that you can run the mile in the high 7′s and bench press at least 180lbs). And for those of you who simply can’t handle the anxiety of non-membership any longer, here is a small sneak peak at the forums, which are still officially in beta testing mode:

Posted in Uncategorized | 5 Comments

Expats Attempting to Censor the Korean Blogosphere (HOT)

Posted on May 9, 2012 by The Expat

Hi readers. How’s it going today? I know I’ve been out of touch and kind of detached but that’s life sometimes, isn’t it? I remember when I changed my web address and sent out a post to all readers, telling them to email me if they wanted the new address to this site. I was expecting to get maybe 50-60 emails, but instead I got over 3000 emails from Expats both living in Korea, and other countries. Looking at the signatures and email addresses, I received emails from ESL teachers, business owners, bankers, embassy staff, military officers, other notable Korea-based bloggers, a few famous and published authors, and a few sympathetic Koreans. The overwhelming response I got motivated me to continue dribbling and scribbling on this site to entertain myself, my readers and to share my perspective on daily life here in Korea.

A few people have complained that some of my stories are inappropriate or offensive, but I’ve avoided starting flame wars with these people because I am a big fan of free speech and the freedom of expression. If myself or my friends and colleagues want to write stories about ladyboys, night clubs, drinking, prostitutes or any other subject, I believe that freedom of speech and freedom of expression should allow this. I’ve written whatever I’ve wanted to write, and have refrained from mentioning anyone by their real names. I’ve kept it fun and fair and have accumulated a long list of regular readers from nearly every walk of expat life.

Recently my web host received a complaint from a foreign man in Eunpyeong-gu, Seoul, claiming that my site is too profane, and violates the terms of service related to profanity. My reader knows that I have never posted nude photos on this website, and have kept most visuals work-friendly. Yes, the language in some of my postings is colorful. Yes, I’ve used words that may have offended people, though I’ve never posted any racial slurs, nor have I allowed racial slurs to be posted in the comments section. What’s the point of writing stories if you are limited in what language you can use?

The individual filing this complaint is a person I have never met before in my life. I have no association with this person, nor have I ever worked with, talked to, communicated with or dealt with this person on any level. I have no opinion of this individual, having never met him. In his complaint, he claims to be the owner of a Korea related expat website, of which neither myself nor anyone in my circle of friends are members.

Prior to filing his “profanity” complaint with my webhost, I never received any notification from this person named in the complaint stating that he found my site to be offensive. Had the person in question notified me personally of any grudge that he might have had, I’m sure that I could have accommodated his requests. Instead, this individual chose to file complaints (most of which are frivolous and nonsensical at best), with my host in an attempt to take this site down from the internet.

I have received complaints from radical Christian groups in the past, and have known some long term expats to be members of such groups who would seek to suppress free speech when it comes into conflict with their extremist views.

I have to ask my reader, do you think that the person filing these complaints should control what you can and can’t read in the Korean blogosphere? How long will it be before similar complaints are filed against other bloggers who sometimes use naughty language, or sometimes tell stories that offend the overly-sensitive? Why should one person seek to control what you, the expat reader in Korea or Asia can or cannot read? What would possibly motivate such a person?

Since receiving this complaint from my host, I have received emails from two other website owners whom I know personally, who have reported receiving similar threats. One website owner was threatened with a lawsuit unless he turned over the personal information of all who registered to his website (yes, I have the emails to prove it). Another friend was threatened and harassed via text message by someone who didn’t like what he posted on my website. The person sending the text message was later found to be close friends (we have screen captures) with the person who recently filed the above questionable complaint with my host. The person filing complaints has also been linked to the ATEK lawsuit and scandal (again, screen captures can be posted).

Why in the world these individuals, expats in their 40’s who are married to Koreans, would seek to attack this website is anyone’s guess. I’ve never made negative posts about other expats on my blog. My reader knows me as the type of person who is beyond petty acts towards petty people.

As a result of the complaints, the following actions have been taken:

I have freed up space on one of my offshore dedicated servers to host this website.
I have backed up and re-uploaded this site to the new host.
I have registered 27 different domain names to act as mirrors

In essence, it does not matter if my host caves to his ridiculous demands, as this site will be up and mirrored within days, and hosted on my own personal servers. In the past, I have refrained from posting negative information about other expats, in the interest of expat to expat goodwill and relations. Please note that when this site re-launches on a dedicated offshore host, I will no longer protect people from being written about openly on this site.

Want to know what REALLY happened with ATEK? We have pages of documents and screen captures showing litigious expat low-lives behaving like underhanded, spoiled babies. STAY TUNED.

Want to know who’s the biggest expat baby in Korea? Want to know who lives entirely off their father-in-law and spends most of their spare time threatening lawsuits on the internet? STAY TUNED.

Want to see abusive and threatening text messages and emails sent from someone who runs a supposedly ethical Korean expat forum? STAY TUNED.

Want to see pictures of these people and their families and friends? Want to know where they live or what their phone numbers are? STAY TUNED.

If harassment towards me continues in any way, I WILL out you in a way that you will never recover from.

I’ve been very generous up until this point. I’ve refrained from allowing critical posts against other expats to be publicly posted on this website. If pushed far enough, the underhanded, low-down, shady, unscrupulous actions of many long term Korea expats, as well as their links to various Korean businesses, advertisers, lawsuits, and cases of harassment will all be posted on this website. The expat community in Korea is a very small place, and I don’t see why some members of it would seek to make it even smaller.

So to my reader, if you are feeling that your rights to free expression and free speech are being interfered with by this person, I’d encourage you to write about it, post about it, re-blog it, comment about it, and most of all think about it.

Posted in Uncategorized | 46 Comments

The Simplicity of Human Nature

Posted on May 6, 2012 by The Expat

Saturday afternoon and I’m pounding the Itaewon pavement. When I first came to Korea, Itaewon was my most frequent weekend destination. After settling in, I rented a villa in Itaewon, but then spent weekends in Hongdae. I was 24 years old at the time. Itaewon was for washed up expat bar stool warmers, dipshit American soldiers, and their fat-assed loud-mouthed wives. It was the last place I wanted to be. Another three or four years passed. Hongdae became a hipster shit-hole garbage dump and Itaewon started to gentrify.

Itaewon welcomed me back with open arms. All the bar owners, restaurant owners and shop owners hadn’t forgotten about me. It was as if I’d never left Seoul’s oldest expat enclave. I drop by a Familymart that I’ve been going to for almost 7 years. The place is a tiny hole-in-the-wall establishment; a Micro-Familymart. The place has always been staffed by a woman in her mid to late 50’s and her daughter who is now about 30. Neither one of them look as though they belong behind the counter of a Familymart. One can only guess what bizarre or unfortunate circumstances lead to their eking out a living on the razor thin margins of a convenience store.

The older woman recognizes me as a long-term customer, but we never chat. Though she is at the age where many Korean women have traded desirability, intellect and femininity for weekend hikes and Jesus, she still maintains the aura of someone whose hopes and dreams have merely been side-lined. She is tall and slender with a long and elegant neck, like a wine bottle. Her hair is only slightly permed and she wears reading glasses. Outside of this Familymart, you’d never guess that this woman spends seven days a week, 12 hours a day as a convenience store clerk. She could very easily pass for a university professor, piano teacher, or intellectual. She never smiles.

As I grab my water and head for the counter, an average looking woman stands in front of me, buying a pack of cigarettes. Much like the peasant-scum middle aged male smokers who keep Korean cigarette companies in business, she doesn’t request the cigarettes, but instead demands them –as if they were hers before she even entered the store. Low social status and low culture, engrained from birth. The customer then digs through her pockets and extracts two ratty 1000won notes and a fist full of change, which she dumps on the counter, before walking out the front door without saying anything.

The clerk furrows her brow and tries to line up the filthy 1000won notes head to head and put them in the register. She scoops up the change and rings up my water. Though still elegant, deep down she’s one of those human beings in the midst of the crushing despair that comes from knowing that they have taken the wrong road and are now in a lifetime cul-de-sac of misery from which there is no return. I smile and thank her in Korean.

I cruise towards Hooker Hill and stop by a Turkish kebab shop on the way up. There is a large group of middle eastern men, enjoying their day off. They’ve put in a massive order for 12 kebabs, so I stand around and wait for my order. As I wait, a skinny white male about 25 years old stumbles up to the takeout window of the kebab shop. He’s wearing filthy clothes. He looks homeless, but he’s probably an American soldier, or a first year ESL teacher who has spent his entire pay check less than 24 hours after receiving it. He asks the proprietor for a kebab, and then reaches in his pockets to reveal that he has only 1000won. Apparently he’s a frequent customer because the kebab shop owner shakes his head in disappointment, takes the 1000won and gives him a kebab anyway. The strung out kid leaves the window, mumbling promises of “I’ll pay you back sometime…”

I take my kebab to the stairs leading up to Hooker Hill. I sit with my kebab and cola. For a moment, I look like exactly what I am; a middle aged man eating a kebab and watching the world pass by. I finish my kebab and scale the steps leading to Hooker Hill. There is a large pile of trash on the side of the street, so I throw my empty bottle and kebab wrapper onto the growing pile. It’s afternoon time, but a few money oriented whores are already plying their trade. They are hostile, angry, depressed humans who have given up on achievement and dignity, and now wallow in a trough of criminality and pleasureless sex. They are professional pieces of human garbage. Some expats drop hundreds and hundreds of dollars a night in these places. These men are fools.

As humans, I suppose we don’t require that much. We aren’t that special. The ceaseless game of smoke and mirrors that we play is a thin veneer over the fact that we are needy, pathetic carbon based life forms that can be lifted up and made happy by disgusting acts with disgusting people. Once you punch through blowjob #200, the mind begins to wander. The most common denominator of our lives is indeed very low, and those who recognize this fact are among the lucky. I walk past the plot of land where several whore bars where burned down, and note that construction has started on Itaewon’s newest hotel. One can only hope that this new hotel is geared towards short-time casual freelance prostitution, otherwise it would be a terrible waste of space, as I can’t imagine families of Chinese mainlanders actually sleeping on Hooker Hill.

Posted in Uncategorized | 16 Comments

All About Perceptions

Posted on April 30, 2012 by The Expat

It’s 2pm, Friday afternoon and I’m feeling fine. The problem is that at 2pm in Seoul on a weekday, there isn’t much going on. The bars aren’t open yet, and the office ladies in their office lady uniforms have all gone back to the office to do whatever it is that office workers do all day. I’m sitting in an international restaurant popular among non-budget conscious foreign tourists. There are three types of waitresses here;

1. Scared to death of foreigners, and the prospect of having to speak English, hands usually shake nervously as they pen my order into the book.

2. Indifferent; hates all customers equally.

3. Confident, maybe speaks English, maybe doesn’t, but confident and job/service oriented either way.

Today’s waitress is tall, and a bit rough around the edges. She was probably a tomboy in high school. She’s a category-three and speaks English without even the slightest hint of embarrassment. She is a confident alpha-female. Not friendly, not rude; just serious and reserved. She’s headed for bigger and better things. She’ll do something, or be something in life; this place, this time, these customers, these co-workers –they’re not real. She somehow ended up here, learned the routine, committed the motions into memory and hasn’t yet grown jaded enough to externally indicate her hatred of this job, or this place, or the long hours on her feet, or the tiny salary, or the difficult, demanding, asshole customers, or the time spent here that could have been spent elsewhere. She understands her current position in life, but it doesn’t define here. The present time is just a speed bump on the road of life. Customers? We’re nobodies. Insignificant objects, much like the plates, glasses, beers, and food she carries around all day.

She doesn’t take shit from anyone; this fact is proudly broadcast by the expression on her face and her demeanor. Taller than average with skillfully applied, yet understated makeup, she has a red bandana tied around her hair and knotted at the top of her head, rockabilly style. I think I’m in love. The solution to my boredom problem has just arrived. Normally I don’t even sit down in this shit-hole overpriced restaurant unless it is to drink myself into a stupor at the bar. The place is usually packed with first year ESL teachers, Army wives, and locals who are feeling adventurous on their lunch breaks.

There are two first-year male ESL teachers sitting at the booth across from me. White guys, early to mid 20’s, who look like they probably spent most of their university years repelling the opposite sex. But now they’ve arrived to Korea, and after a few months, they are hardened veterans. This is probably their first job, and their first time traveling outside of North America. They probably arrived with two giant suitcases each, nervous, not knowing what to expect, their names written on the inside tags of their underwear by caring parents thousands of miles away. The kind of first-time-traveler momma’s boy bullshit advice their parents gave them before their setting off, I can only imagine.

Mommy: “Be sure not to drink the tap water, it’s probably filthy.”

Daddy : “Son, if you have any trouble we’re just a phone call away. We’ll be on the first flight over to pick you up!”

Mommy: “Remember what I taught you about washing clothes; first the detergent, and then the fabric softener.”

They sit engaged in a heated conversation about dating in Korea. Residing in Korea for a few months qualifies them as experts on the subject. I give them names to match their appearances, and listen as these two World of Warcraft geeks turned Adonis-rockstar male-model-sex-gods unfold their vast knowledge of the local dating scene.

Hunter Huntington: “I don’t know how foreign dudes can date Korean women.”

Richard Richardson: “Yeah man, Korean women are crazy man, totally crazy!”

Hunter Huntington: “The dudes who date them must be even crazier, man.”

Richard Richardson: “All they care about is money, man. Plus they get all psycho when you try to break up with them.”

Hunter Huntington: “Totally insane bro!”

I sit, and drink, and listen, amused. I wonder if that’s what I sounded like during my first year in Korea. Fuck. I order another beer. My new waitress friend understands enough of the conversation to be mildly irritated. I smile and shrug in their direction. I get a slight smile from my stoic waitress, who returns with two beers instead of one. I think I’m in love. I imagine what our children would look like. They’d be alpha children, fluent in two languages, taller than average, and wouldn’t take any shit from anyone.

You see, my two ESL teacher neighbors are leaving out one glaring piece of the human relations puzzle: women are ALL sociopaths. Not just Korean women. They mistakenly assume that because they observe a certain behavior here in a different culture, they won’t observe the same exact behavior patterns upon return to the USA or Canada. The behaviors are all the same, they just present themselves differently. In other words; same fucking party, different costumes.

Smart, upwardly mobile and cerebrally inclined women know that they don’t actually need men. They live happy, satisfying lives of self indulgence and career success. Less cerebral women don’t know this fact via critical thinking, but rather they know this fact instinctively. They don’t need men; they need just your money and sperm. Women in Canada and the USA want your money too; they’ve just been socialized not to talk about it openly because talking about financial expectations is considered vulgar in Western culture. Koreans however, have no shame in being blatantly honest about their relationship expectations and this is probably due to their humble, Confucian, agricultural roots.

Advice for my two ESL teacher comrades: When you go back to the USA, you’ll eventually get married. Once you get married, a baby will eventually come along (this was her primary reason for marrying you). You’ll proudly record your baby’s birth date and time. Perhaps several months will pass, and then without warning, your wife will start referring to the child as “my baby” (instead of “our baby”). This date should also be written down and recorded, as it marks the first crack in the foundation of your marriage. The next time your wife refers to your kid as “my baby”, write it down again, and then go back over your notes. Holy shit! The time between the last occurrence and this occurrence is shorter! Eventually she’ll be referring to the child as “my baby” all the time. Now your wife is fat, and doesn’t bother trying to look attractive anymore because she isn’t competing for resources (she already has yours). Now you’re working long hours and wondering where all your money goes. Was it really all that different?

To recap:

Seoul boring at 2pm

Western food overpriced

Alpha female waitress

Bigger better things

Hybrid Alpha Children

First year ESL teachers

It’s all perception

Women are sociopaths

Sperm and Money

Cracks in the foundation

It’s all the same

Posted in Uncategorized | 6 Comments

ESL Anecdotes from Korea # 7: Love is in the Air

Posted on April 23, 2012 by The Expat

Summer 2005, Seoul Korea. I’m 23 years old. I’m teaching children at a hagwon. Today is field trip day. Initial thoughts: I can think of better things to do than spending time on a Korean farm in the countryside, however, being on a Korean farm in the countryside beats being in a classroom for 10 hours, so I’m not complaining at all. The bus ride is over an hour and a half. I’m listening to my iPod at full volume in the front seat of the yellow hagwon bus as eight kids and two unenthusiastic Korean teachers sing kiddy songs in the back seats. I smell the farm before I see it. I’d figured we were going to a vegetable farm, but the smell indicates that we are arriving in an area used for livestock farming. The children complain about the strong smell of animal shit that is getting into the bus despite the windows being rolled up. My initial thought changes to “Actually, I wouldn’t mind being back in the air-conditioned classroom right now.”

We arrive at the farm and get out. We are greeted by an overly friendly elderly couple, grandparents of one of the students. Lots of hugs, and lots of smiling, but no English. What was I expecting, right? My co-workers are three obese Canadian girls, and a die-hard alcoholic Canadian 20-something male, who got his ass kicked at a bar in Itaewon and began dating a prostitute all during his first weekend in Korea. My iPod rapidly became my closest friend during my early years in Korea. The Canadian girls are already complaining about the heat and the smell, giant patches of sweat having formed under their arm pits and fat rolls, despite being out of the bus for less than 5 minutes. I’m thinking “I wonder if my iPod battery is going to last long enough to drown out their complaining.”

I mean, this isn’t how I’d want to spend my Friday afternoon either, but complaining about it would only give everyone else a headache. My Canadian male co-worker (Daniel teacher) already has a headache because he drank heavily the previous night at the Tin Pan in Hongdae; the sloppy, filthy, puke laden fishing hole where he scrapes the bottom of the barrel and sometimes gets lucky with regards to female companionship (he has absolutely no standards, he requires only “two feet and a heartbeat” as my Canadian reader might say). Daniel teacher is holding his head and groaning, and the three corpulent Canadian girls are complaining about everything (no offense to my Canadian reader intended, this was just the situation).

The smell of animal shit is strong, almost like ammonia. The first activity includes digging for potatoes, which of course are buried under a layer of pig shit which is utilized as fertilizer. So we’re wading through pig shit, digging for potatoes bare handed. The kids are having fun, and that’s all that really matters. Me? I’m just along for the ride. I do what they tell me to do. I smile, pose for photos, and help the kids dig past the layer of pig shit and into the ground in search of red potatoes. The kids get super excited each time one is unearthed. The Canadian girls are bitching about mosquitoes, pig shit, hot weather and being hungry. Sufficient potatoes found, we chuck them into a bucket and the Korean granny heads off to wash them. I’m now thinking “Ok, job finished, time to go back now, right?”

I mean what more could a farm have to offer? The Korean teachers have now joined the fat Canadian girls, complaining about the entire situation. Of course, complaining at this point is counterproductive, as the day isn’t going to get any shorter. Next we head over to the source of the smell; a giant pig pen. I notice that the Korean granny is washing our potatoes in the trough where the pigs drink their water. I make a mental note not to eat any of the food we are given later. The pig pen is absolutely filthy, and the pigs themselves are huge and covered in mud. They are noisy, wallowing in their own filth, and loving every moment of it. They have no clue that they will be butchered, their fat and meat consumed in an orgy of cheap alcohol, fried garlic and 고추장.

They are stupid, filthy animals with the single-minded end-life goals of eating, reproducing and wallowing in feces and mud all day long. The Korean teachers think the pigs are cute. The Canadian girls stare at the pigs in deep thought. Daniel teacher sits down and tries to massage his forehead to relieve what I can only assume is a massive, cheap alcohol induced hangover. After 30 seconds, I’m bored. It is precisely at this point that a large male pig proceeds to mount a female pig and pound away. I mean, has my reader ever seen a pig penis? Fucking repulsive. It looks like a long curly tape worm in a sticky sheath.

And yet here in front of us, we have a large male pig, basically raping a female pig who is now squealing loudly and trying to get out from under her interloper’s embrace. She ain’t moving, and the male pig ain’t letting up, so there’s lots of squealing and pounding. Male pig is absolutely, positively piston-pumping the hell out of the female pig. She looks like she’s going to die. This type of species on species violence is rare, even in the wild. Nature is brutal, and reproduction often non-consensual. The Korean teachers are trying to cover the eyes of the kids, but once one kid starts crying, the rest of them all start crying together. Daniel teacher thinks it would be smart to throw a piece of kimbap near the male pig to distract him. The kimbap instead attracts another female pig to the scene, who is then subsequently mounted and jack-hammered by the alpha male. The whole scene plays out about 1 meter from where we are sitting. The male finishes in a volcano like eruption of semen all over the second female pig. As he withdraws, he continues spraying semen all over the ground.

The children are still crying and the Korean teachers are trying to grab kids and move them into the chicken area. I’m now thinking “Nature: so brutal. What lies will we tell the children about what just happened?” Ironically, and I kid you not; as soon as we get to the chicken area, a rooster almost immediately begins having sex with a hen right in front of where we are standing. It’s violent, he’s holding her down with his claws, forcing himself on her, just pumping away and hammering with reckless abandon while the hen screams for mercy. Have you ever seen a rooster hammer a hen like that? I’ve been on farms before, but this was the first time I’d ever seen that. Love is in the air, but the children are again upset. This time they assume that one chicken is simply trying to kill another chicken. We tell them that the chickens are “just playing”. We then move on to a grass picnic area, where everyone proceeds to eat kimbap, potatoes, fruit and sandwich slices.

I eat only kimbap, and even then, only kimbap which I myself personally unseal from the wrapping, because as far as I can see, nobody has washed their hands. After lunch there’s lots of playing around on the grass, more smiles, and more photographs. Everyone is back in happy-mode and the kids are burning off energy, which means they will sleep on the way back to the school. One of my Korean co-workers is playing with a large Jindo dog. Koreans seem to either love dogs or absolutely hate them. There exists very little middle ground. Most are scared of large dogs and either freeze up, or scream and run away, but not my co-worker. My co-worker loves dogs of all shapes and sizes. Ever seen one of those sick individuals who kisses dogs on the nose or mouth? My big-eared Korean female co-teacher is one of those individuals.

She also uses baby-talk whenever she talks to dogs. She has hundreds of pictures of her own dog in hundreds of different outfits saved on her cell phone. It’s not long before it’s time to get on the bus and go home. We pack into the yellow hagwon bus, but my big-eared co-teacher is still playing with the Jindo, showing no consideration for the rest of us who want to get out of there. Then, a scream. A loud, frightening scream. I look over and my big-eared coworker is trying to run from the Jindo. Perhaps he’s gotten tired of her baby-talk bullshit and bitten her, but I see no blood. The Jindo mounts her leg and is aggressively fucking and clawing at the same time. He’s violently humping her leg as she screams and fights his strong canine paws and claws. She falls down and the Jindo continues pumping – I mean, he’s just going to town with a kind of determination I’ve rarely seen in humans. I’ve never seen an animal build up that kind of repetitive horizontal inertia before -and he doesn’t even look like he’s breaking a sweat.

We watch from the hagwon bus, half horrified, half entertained. The grandpa calls off the Jindo, who having blown an entire load of canine spunk all over Big-Ears’ leg and jeans regains his composure and reverts to his playful former self. Big-Ears is now crying as the Korean teachers rush to her aid with wet-wipes, trying to scrub the canine semen from her clothes and comfort her at the same time. Love is definitely in the air. It was a large dog, and he’d apparently been storing his load all summer for a special occasion, because her leg was just drenched in semen from top to bottom, and it was definitely soaking through her jeans. She’s alright, but shaken up. The farmers are laughing like this happens all the time. The kids are sleeping in the bus. I grab the front seat because there’s no way I’m sitting next to a whimpering girl whose leg is caked in dog semen for a 1.5 hour steamy bus ride back into the city.

The bus driver, a man of advanced age and the proud owner of a leathery brown face, no doubt from having spent considerable time on a farm himself, asks why Big Ears is crying. A Korean co-worker explains in polite language what happened and the bus driver breaks into an almost toothless, knowing smile. He looks over at me, clasps his ten leathery fingers together and then begins slapping the palms of his hands together rapidly, simulating the rhythmic pumping that has been a near constant theme through out the day. Yes, I nod my head to him, yes that’s exactly what happened. He continues to laugh as he pulls out of the dirt covered driveway.

As I dawn my earphones, I have one final thought: “Korean countryside: Not as boring as I thought it would be.”

Posted in The Expat | 13 Comments

Quotes and Exerpts Part 1

Posted on April 22, 2012 by The Monger

“I’m on a mission to bring order and balance to the world of ajumma toll booth collector harassment. Honk if you love Burberry coats with nothing underneath.” -From Toll Booth Games.

“15 minutes later I’m back outside and it’s colder than an ajumma’s iron tit in a brass bra. I’m still rock hard from the Viagra. I didn’t take it for myself, I’m actually just testing it for a friend.” -From Like a Snake Shedding It’s Skin.

“I’m headed upstairs with a tall, demented Korean tranny hooker. I’ve heard the rumors and I want to see if they are true. I’m ready to explore new territory. Like a champagne cork flying, I’m going to blow my Viagra wad in trannyville.” -From Like a Snake Shedding It’s Skin.

“Anal lube, cowboy hats, glass platform shoes and inflatable dolls? This is all going to sound awfully familiar to you. I can’t be the only foreigner in Korea who dreams of being a dancing whore. Of course not. Don’t kid yourself. We all think about it. It’s natural.” -From Dancing Naked for the Jesus Freaks.

“Mixed into my coffee are three crushed 10mg tablets of methylphenidate and dissolving its way through the walls of my stomach is one 50mg Viagra pill. My balls are hugging my body, my head is clear, and I am parking my car on the street in Itaewon.” -From The Human Connection.

“But one day I did end up speaking to her briefly, and 30 minutes later we were back in the living room of my apartment drinking tequila shots at 11:30 in the morning. Funny how things end up sometimes.” -From Morning Drinks and Other Situations.

“Everyone who knows me knows that I keep bags of Dorrito Chips in my car. Sometimes when I see big girls on the streets of Itaewon, I like to stick my arm out the window and hand feed them Dorritos” -From Whipped Cream and Twinkies: A Butt Hunt in Itaewon.

“BMW likes to keep trophies from all of our hunts; he hangs the giant thongs over the doorway of his apartment. In his culture, this is a sign of virility.” -From Whipped Cream and Twinkies: A Butt Hunt in Itaewon.

“Like packs of wolves, they sit and wait. Unaccompanied women rush past with a sense of urgency. As the soju flows, the potential for non-consensual sex increases by the minute.” -From The Roll.

“Grunting is easier because it doesn’t require him to open his mouth, which would by the nature of mechanics and locomotion require him to remove the cigarette that he will be smoking at all times, whenever you talk to him. So he grunts and nods, or grunts and shakes his head.” -From Dinner with Stone Cold MBA.

Posted in The Expat, The Monger | 2 Comments

Room Salon Recovery System (Patent Pending)

Posted on April 18, 2012 by The Expat

Hello fellow expats. I’m here again, bringing you another product that is going to revolutionize your busy lifestyle. A product so brilliant that it will turn your filthy adulterous life on its head and save your marriage. Jake Esquire Limited Holdings LLC, a Panama-registered limited liability corporation with capitalization of $14 million USD, offices in Cyprus and bank accounts in Luxembourg has just created a product that will fill the massive void in your hollow, empty life. From the same company that brought you the ajumma dog leash/collar system ™, the K-Pop Princess Plastic Surgery Eye Mask ™ and the Big Girl Itaewon One-Piece Party Costume™. We are proud to announce that we are again leading the way in culturally sensitive product development and bringing to market new, innovative products that will change lives. Trust us, we understand your situation.

The Room Salon Recovery System (RSRS) (Patent # 14825671 Pending)

Hi married male friends, gather around. Are you like me? Of course you are, and that’s why you’re sitting right here, right now. Let me ask you something: Has the scent of another woman on your suit jacket ever interfered with your domestic lifestyle? Has your wife ever exploded after finding another woman’s hair in your vehicle? How do they even know it’s not their own hair, right? Do receipts from love motels, parking lots, bars and late night toll roads sometimes wind up in your laundry? Yeah, I know, how did those get there? Ever had a random pushy woman bump into you in the elevator and smear lipstick all over your collar? Yeah – I know, so rude, right? And that 22 year old from the room salon who keeps calling you at 2am? Right, I know, one of your sneaky co-workers must have left your business card at that club as a joke, because you’ve never been there in your life, right? Trust me; Jake Esquire Limited Holdings LLC understands your situation completely. These things happen, and for every problem, there’s a solution. We’ve got your back. We have two different systems available to suit your unique and busy lifestyle.

Basic System (for Beginners) 59,000krw 39,000krw

The beginner system is available in two styles; smart salary-man briefcase, or sensitive-guy “messenger bag”. Included with the basic system are the following items:

-Three pressed white shirts (specify size) sealed in individual plastic bags. Does your dress shirt smell like cheap perfume, cigarettes, soju, or an exotic mixture of all three? Not a problem anymore. Only break the seal of the plastic bag immediately prior to wearing the shirt. Use the empty bag to temporarily store your soiled shirt until you have a chance to take it to the dry cleaners or dispose of it.

-One pack of Tide Stain Remover Sticks. Due to difficulties associated with custom tailoring new suit pants or jackets for customers on an individual basis, we have decided against supplying these items in favor of supplying a simple stain removal solution. Sometimes lipstick makes its way onto your jacket or dress pants, and as we all know, all the water and wet tissues in the world won’t remove the right red lipstick from around your zipper area. Each pack contains five individual sticks, enough to last most clients a year. Simply roll on, wait two minutes and then scrub away the lipstick using a wet tissue.

-One sticky paper lint roller. This versatile tool serves dual purposes. First, you are going to use this to remove hair, dust and lint particles from your jacket and pants. Dust and lint absorb and retain odors. When a woman applies perfume to her clothing, and then transfers lint from her clothing to yours, the scent of perfume also transfers. Removing lint and dust from your suit jacket and pants is the first step in suspicious odor removal. Secondly, this rolling lint remover also serves as a “skank hair” remover for your vehicle. Trust me, your wife or girlfriend knows EXACTLY what her own hair looks like. Even a single hair in your vehicle from another woman could spell disaster. Roll the lint roller on all of your vehicle seats first, and then proceed to the floor areas (work top to bottom). Rip off the used sticky paper and discard it.

-Five empty cologne bottles. Why are they empty? Good question friends; they are obviously empty because you are going to fill them with YOUR OWN cologne, stupid. Think your wife or girlfriend won’t notice if you come home wearing different cologne than you left the house with? Don’t be an idiot. Siphon a sample from each cologne bottle you already keep in your house, and fill each spare bottle with at least 25ml of cologne. Be sure to match the cologne you are applying with the same cologne you left the house wearing in the morning. Add a tiny bit of water to dilute the cologne as the relative strength of cologne scent wears down as the day progresses (and yes, women know this too). Be sure not to over-apply.

-One pair of document shredding scissors. Economical and quick, no batteries required. Use these scissors to destroy receipts from love motels, parking garages, toll roads, and parking lots, as well as movie tickets and receipts from lingerie shops or department stores. Be sure to cut vertically once, and then horizontally several times. Makes it especially easy to flush shredded paper down a toilet when stuck in a confrontational situation.

-500ml of mouth wash. You have it in your house already, but who comes home at 3am and then rushes to the bathroom just to use mouthwash? Don’t be a nervous, suspicious asshole. Wash your mouth out thoroughly in the parking garage before even getting in the elevator. In fact, wash your mouth out the instant you exit the club, and continue to gargle and spit out the window for the entire drive home. Environmentally friendly non-alcoholic formula may also help with DUI checkpoints.

-One bottle of Febreeze. This is not the local garbage produced under license from the Samsung-Tesco group; this is original formula heavy hitting toxic liquid spray straight from Mexico. Spray this on your jacket to eliminate skank odors (again work top to bottom, front to back, and be sure to spray inside as well).

Advanced System (for professionals) 298,000KRW

Our advanced system includes all of the above, as well as the following:

-One High Quality Lint Brush. Trust us, there’s only so much that a cheaper sticky-paper based lint roller will remove. The lint brush is an upgrade that can be used alone, or in conjunction with the sticky-paper lint roller. Also removes dust, dirt, skank hair and small balls of fabric that are difficult to get at with a traditional roller system.

-One battery powered fabric shaver. Remove fabric “balls” and fuzz that tends to absorb odor easily. Use this to trim your coat or sweater before using the lint brush or roller brush. Remember, the pattern of usage should always be Fabric Trimmer -> Lint Brush -> Lint Roller -> Febreeze.

-One LG Prada Disposal Untraceable Pay-as-you-go Cell Phone. Known to professional criminals, pimps, gangsters and politicians simply as a “대폰”. The phone will come pre-registered in a foreigner’s name, so you won’t have to worry about it ever being traced, and even if it is eventually traced, you can blame a foreigner (they’re all criminals anyway). No monthly bill, no paper trail, and no more late night calls to your “main” phone. Best of all, the GPS/location services will be disabled as with all pre-paid phones. Don’t arouse your loved one’s suspicions by upgrading your daily phone. Instead keep the LG Prada 3.0 in your office or car for weekend and late night use only, while keeping your “main” phone unprotected and stored in plain sight at all times to reduce suspicions.

-Black Business Cards. Why? Simple; if you are a salaryman (you are), then your business card is most certainly white, and it most certainly has your office phone number and personal cell phone number printed on it. Maybe you think you’re clever by writing your 대폰 number on the back of your business card, but ask yourself these simple questions: (1) Do you really want some whore or room salon girl to know where you work? (2) Do you really want some whore or room salon girl to have your office phone number and address? (3) Do you really want some whore or room salon girl to have your “normal” cell phone number? These women will call you constantly. Part of their job revolves around bringing you BACK to the club for drinks again and again. (4) Do you even want these women to have your REAL name? Why?

Don’t be stupid. Supply whatever name you like and our stationary shop will produce 200 all-black business cards with your alias, false job title and 대폰 number printed on them. No more confusion over which business card to hand out to whom. White business cards for business, black business cards for pleasure.

-One battery/12v auto-lighter powered quick paper shredder. Why mess around with scissors when you can shred receipts easily and effortlessly? Powered by four AA batteries, or the 12v cigarette lighter outlet in your vehicle. Easily mounts to your car door so that you can shred receipts out the window as you drive.

-Portable black light. How many times have you woken up in the morning only to find a giant stain on your pants, or car seat, or underwear that you hadn’t seen the previous night? Don’t let it happen again. Stains that can’t be easily seen at night will come back to haunt you the next morning. Go over all clothing, especially dark clothing) with this portable black light (after lint brushing and before Febrezzing) to find and eliminate hard-to-see stains. Can also be used to detect bodily fluids on car seats.

-One Money Clip. Why a money clip? Simple; the point of having a money clip is to remind you that your “main” wallet needs to stay in your office or car, with your “main” phone. At no point in time should your “main” wallet or “main” phone ever go with you into a club. If you get drunk enough, you might take out the wrong credit card and use it. If you are a salary man (you are) then your wife has probably activated SMS alerts for all of your credit cards, and she will get a text message showing when and where you use the card (think I’m joking? Ask your co-workers).

As you continue to drink, you’ll start stuffing receipts into your wallet, and you will forget about them later. While you have your back turned, or are in the bathroom, a hostess will probably grab your phone and call herself with it in order to save your number. Hostesses have also been known to take photos of themselves with your phone, and then save their number and profile into your phone’s memory. The last thing you want at 2am on a weekday while you sleep is a ringing phone and a picture of a 22 year old hostess dancing on the screen. Don’t let it happen, leave these items in your office or car at all times.

-Portable receipt printer. Use this device coupled with our smartphone APP to print out your own receipts. Don’t be stupid; you’re wife or girlfriend isn’t going to believe that you stayed out all night and didn’t spend a dime. Use this small portable printer along with our smartphone APP to print out receipts from wherever you like (golf clubs, galbi restaurants, seafood restaurants, convention center parking lots). You can customize the time stamps and amounts of money spent, and then put the receipts in your pants or jacket pockets before you go home. We suggest printing the receipts in your office, before you get drunk.

-Portable Air cleaner. You’ll need this in your car; especially if you like to pick up skanks, pavement princesses or cruisers from the side of the road at night (we all go slumming sometimes). Cologne only combines with the smell of skank perfume to create a smell instantly recognizable to any housewife or girlfriend. They may not know what Polo Sport smells like, nor what Chanel No. 5 smells like, but much as they can recognize the hair of another woman, women can almost certainly tell when you’ve tried to cover up the smell of perfume with the smell of cologne (don’t ask how, they just know). Instead of trying to mask the smell of perfume in your vehicle, use this powerful air cleaner with hepa ™ filter and charcoal screen to actually scrub the air clean and remove suspicious odors from the inside of your vehicle.

Jake Esquire Limited Holdings LLC understands your situation so well, that for the entire month of May, we are offering a special one-plus-one deal on our starter kits. Purchase now, and receive a pink bathroom towel set free of charge. Supplies are limited and bilingual operators are standing by.

Please address all written inquiries to our corporate headquarters at:

Jake Esquire Limited Holdings LLC

C/O Seoul Global Business Support Center

3rd Floor of the Seoul Press Center,

25 Taepyeongno 1-ga, Jung-gu,

Seoul 247-21

Tele: (82)-1688-0120

Posted in Itaewon, Please understanduh my unique culture, The Expat | 12 Comments

Mr. Parking Garage Make-Over Man

Posted on April 13, 2012 by The Expat

Prelude:

It’s early Friday morning, around 3:30 am. Yes, my wife allows me to come how at this hour; no I’m not drunk. I’m coming back from my friend’s office near the Riverside Hotel around Gangnam. We spent the evening making calls back and forth toGermany, trying to negotiate a lower price for some raw materials that one of my local buddies uses to make assembly line production machines and conveyor belts (See? Making money isn’t always exciting).

The roads are clear as I blast through Gangnam, Seocho and to the outer reaches ofSeoulproper; into the neighborhood I call home. It’s almost dead silent. Bars are closed, and the subways are not yet open. I take the rear driveway to enter my building because the front driveway has a giant blind spot, and my neighbors (bless their little hearts) have been known to blindly accelerate out from the garage into an area where numerous accidents consequently occur (Please understand my빨리 빨리 culture).

So I cruise down the rear ramps and into the belly of my apartment building’s parking garage. As I gently maneuver my vehicle around a corner, I happen upon two girls whom if I weren’t feeling culturally sensitive and open-minded, I’d refer to as a pair of classic 된장녀 (Bean Paste Girls). Long permed and colored hair, tight clothes, lots of makeup, giant Louis Vuitton bags dangling off their arms while they stand around a white Audi either pretending that it’s their car, or checking their makeup in the window’s reflection before hopping into their Daewoo Matiz and driving home.

They give me a dirty look; I smile and wave. I proceed down to B5, where I usually park. As I round another corner I spot a local man of about 35 years standing next to a silver Mercedes CLS with the trunk and driver’s side door open. He’s doing something, but I can’t see exactly what he’s doing. I park in my usual spot, and observe the man as I let my car cool down. Upon further inspection, I can see that he is vigorously scrubbing his pants with a blue cloth. His black suit jacket is draped over the driver’s side door as he dabs, and scrubs and tries to remove something from the front of his pants.

Then he begins round two of the struggle. Suit pants sufficiently scrubbed, he now removes his white dress shirt and throws it in the trunk of his car. He removes a fresh shirt from the back seat of his car and puts it on. He then takes a bottle of Febreeze from somewhere in the front and proceeds to spray down his jacket. He carefully sprays the front, then the back, and then the inside. The man then takes a wet tissue and rubs his face and neck, then checks himself in the driver’s side mirror. He goes over his jacket with a small rolling lint brush, smells the jacket and then puts it back on. He places his dirty shirt and various items into a black plastic bag and throws the bag back into the trunk. He grabs what looks like a pack of gum and walks towards the elevator. Curious fellow, this guy. I shut off my vehicle and proceed to another bank of elevators. The classical music being piped through the parking garage speakers remind me that I am over-paying to live in what is essentially a glorified soviet style tenement with lots of fancy statues.

Continued in next post.

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