Oh me, oh my. What am I doing? I've been invited for drinks
again, this time by the guys who work upstairs for the development client. It
should be interesting, to say the least. I am looking forward to getting to
know the client PM a bit more. He’s English and from the North East, and has a
couple of other Brits working with him who will be joining us no doubt, so it
will be good to mix with people I have a more complete culture understanding
of.
Shame that British
culture is even more focussed around evil alcohol, eh?
I am tired all day Friday, and am recovering from a soju
hangover. They are known to be quite bad.This week has been a tough one. I’ve
been working hard and playing hard, and at my age, I feel it more. I am
reminded of my time in Taiwan nearly 10 years ago. The culture there was
similar in terms of regular nights out; in fact I think I cooked for myself
about four times in the nine months I was there, and spent many an hour in pubs
and clubs. I don’t think I will be able to tolerate that kind of lifestyle now.
I can’t, really.
Still, it’s early days, and everyone’s helping me settle in
and making me feel welcome. Hopefully things will settle down, and I should be
able to restrict the nights out to once a week. My body will thank me, not to
mention my wallet. It is cheap here, depending what you do and where you go, as
I am finding out. So far, I have had people with me who insist on paying for
everything, so I haven’t had to dip into my funds too much. I can’t expect them
to do it for my whole time here, though.
I still feel tired at the end of the working day, but the
chaps upstairs have told me that tonight is definitely on. The Korean PM says
he think Arthur should come with me to make sure I don’t get into too much
bother or say the wrong thing to the wrong person. As if! Arthur doesn’t seem
keen at first; he says his wife is on the warpath about all these late nights.
I tell him that we don’t have to go out for long and can always leave at about
9 or 10pm. We’re big boys after all, and can control ourselves, can’t we?
Hmm.
Roll on to 1.30am and I am on my way home in a tuk-tuk and
can barely stand. I have been in several strange venues with names like The
Rose Bar and Die Bunny Die or something, where you are compelled to buy drinks
for the ladies who sit with you (you really have no choice in the matter). Some
massaged my neck while I sat and drank, but they were not too pushy or
bothersome, thankfully. The other blokes seemed to take it all in their stride
and watched my trepidation with growing amusement. I did relax after a while
when I realised it was all harmless fun and that we weren’t going to go
anywhere really dodgy or put into compromising situations. Most of us are
married men, after all. We went to a different K-TV bar for a bit and this time
there was whisky flowing freely, food was brought out, and I again showed off
my voice to the surprise of the Brits present. My Tom Jones impression went
down a storm. Arthur got separated from
our group after the Karaoke and went home to face the Korean equivalent of the
rolling pin, I think.
The last venue I ended up at was a much more sensible and
less scary place, being a huge, modern sports bar with big screens on every
wall. There were no ladies to buy drinks for and the staff were really friendly
and pleasant, particularly the bar manager. One of the Brit guys called Ricky lives
near there, or should I say he practically lives in the bar. We sat there and
talked for a good while, drinking blue margaritas for nightcaps. The manager, a
young guy with a heavy American twang to his accent, put any music on that we
wanted. There was hardly anyone in at the time. They have decently-priced beer
and good food, and show all the big sporting events, so I can see myself coming
here often. Ricky and I are the last two
standing from the whole group that went out tonight. Everyone else has gone
home. I am quite impressed with myself,
although it really isn’t big or clever.
So the night is over and the tuk-tuk ride is taking a while
to get home. He took a while to understand my destination, which seems to be at
the other end of town. He’s still only going to charge 3 bucks for the ride, so
I can’t complain. I just hope he does actually know where he’s going I just
wish there was a nice bar like this near me where I could go every few nights
after work for a chill and a drink of the mood took me.
I get home then and drop into bed like a drunken stone. I
hear some strange noises upstairs again. I thought I was on the top floor, but
apparently I’m not. There is another floor, and there are new residents above
me now. When they turn the water on there is a weird thumping and whistling
noise, which can be quite irritating. Never mind, I’ve drunk enough to pass out
soon enough...I’m going to feel this in the morning!
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