When they party, the sonsengnims party hard.

I don’t know why I think this is the funniest thing that ever happened to me, or why I feel the need to tell everyone I know, but I left the city around three after lunch with a ride that my now-ex-coteacher set up for me with a now ex-coworker who lives in Nabeup, which is nearby, and then around seven, after I had had a nice late afternoon sober-up-for-dinner nap, I get a call from said now-ex-coteacher.

Aside: The vice principle had clasped my hand outside the restaurant repeatedly, saying “Sara!  Tomato!” which is apparently the name of a norebang, so I think I can imagine the scene.  They were already toasted, then went to sing a song, and when the alcohol is flowing and a large group has broken into smaller conversation sets, a person’s world is reduced to the people he can see in front of him, and so only after three hours, maybe as they left, maybe when the vice principle thought ‘you know who hasn’t sung any songs — Sara” did anyone realize I wasn’t there.  Also, I think that the female teachers, including my ride, pretended we were going to go.  As we got in the car she said “The captain: very drunk.  Let’s go to Hallim.”  End aside.

So I say hello, and my now-ex-coteacher says: “Where are you?  Oh really?”  After he says I’m sorry repeatedly and chuckles although no jokes have been made, I realize that he is very intoxicated and that he has drunk dialed me at seven in the evening.  And there is something about that sentence in my head that sends me into hysterics and to my phone to text message everyone.

“I’ll call you later,” he said.  “Do you understand my meaning?”


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