My friend Dave was out for drinks with another friend last weekend in Bundang, just South of Seoul, where a rather friendly, attractive young Korean woman began chatting him up. He bought her a drink and they made small talk for a while until the young woman excused herself and went to the bathroom. Dave’s friend, who had, as good friends do, been keeping a respectable distance, sidled up and suggested that Dave use this opportunity to put an end to what had admittedly been a bit of a dry spell with the ladies.
The young lady returned, reclaimed her seat and they resumed their conversation easily, as would old friends. A few drinks later, Dave decided that his friend’s advice may not have been without merit. They had already shared an easy rapport, decent conversation, and, of course, the young woman had (in accordance with the laws of alcohol) transitioned from ‘rather attractive’ to ‘smoking hot’. In fact, their conversation had been so fluid from the outset that he hadn’t even caught her name. ‘Fuck it’, thought Dave, and asked the young woman if she would care to return with him to his apartment for the night.
“Why not!” she replied, smiling. Dave quietly gave his friend a ‘thumbs up’ as he escorted his new companion, arm in arm, out of the dark and smoky bar into the cool, neon-lit October night. Glancing across at his new friend he was pleased to discover the inescapable bright lights of Seoul had not diminished her attractiveness. And so they walked, arms linked still, and they talked about their respective English teaching jobs, the local live music scene, and all manner of things. It occurred to Dave that this would be the most appropriate time (or at least less awkward than when they reached his apartment which was quite close) to formally introduce himself, thereby finally learning the young woman’s name. It was at that precise moment that the woman looked up at him, apparently for the first time since leaving the bar.
“Oh dear”, she said. “This is kind of embarrassing! I thought you were someone else! Sorry about that!” and with that she shook his hand, wished him a pleasant evening and walked off into the night.
My friend, ever philosophical, later told me, “yeah, I knew something about that night was too easy. This time I think the bullet dodged me”.