Anyway, tangent. Didn’t mean to
be so bossy. You can read this post however you want.
Imma fill you in on the past
twenty four hours of this roller coaster I call my existence. I have been told
I am a terrible story teller in that I start at one end and forget to get to
the point in a timely manner. But, I will try really hard this time.
Here we go. Whee!
Every Wednesday night, I have
Girl’s Night with a stone-cold pack of weirdos. Yesterday, it was about 5
pm and The Girls still hadn’t figured out what we were going to do,
where we were going to go, or what mischief we would find. We knew it had to
be epic, because one of them is leaving next week. Big giant sad panda.
So, we decided on going to the best Mexican restaurant in Busan. Our
meeting time was 8:34. No joke. I left my apartment in plenty of time to get
there. However, as I was walking towards the subway, my Hal-mo-ni (grandmother)
friend dropped her bags in surprise, stopped me, and folded me into one of the
best hugs ever. She reached into her grocery bag, took out one yoghurt, and
gave the other four to me. She said, “Gift to you and friends.” Then, we spent
the next ten minutes exchanging information. The majority of that time, she distinguished
baek-chil-ho (107) and cheon-chil-ho (1007) as my apartment number. She was very specific that I needed to know “CHEON-CHEON-
CHEON-CHIL-HO! One-thousand-seven.” As we said goodbye, she hugged me again,
held me at arms’ length and said, “I love you. You need grandmother in Korea?
Me. I love you.” And, she kissed me on the cheek.
Elated, I bounced towards the
subway blown away by the phenomenal kindness of strangers here. This is my
life, my reality. I still don’t understand how I am not living a storybook. I sent
my friends a message that read, “I have the best excuse for my tardiness ever.”
I arrived at the restaurant, and
my friends shook their heads around the restaurant like abandoned puppies.
“We can only sit outside. There
is no room…”
I decided, “Whelp, it is a warm
night. And, wine will keep us warm. Let’s just sit outside.”
Let me just explain one thing. In
this group of women, not a single one of us is quiet. We all like to talk,
preferably all at the same time. CVK put it very succinctly to the newcomers of
the group, “I am pretty sure that thirty stories start on Girl’s Night, and
maybe three finish. I am being generous with three.”
After we finished three bottles of
wine, and we were at that point of not-quite-tipsy but doing alright. I was antsy
to move to our secondary location, an apartment party with wine and laughter flowing
equally. Then, it happened.
About eight men (two foreigners,
six Koreans) in power suits and fancy cars pulled up to the restaurant.
1. This restaurant is in a creepy
back alley far away from any sort of crowd.
2. None of us were dressed to
match them.
3. We had just enough wine to
make us sassy.
K, our fearless leader with a coy
smile, cooed, “Oh, so glad you could make it. We have been waiting to see who
could sit inside while we froze out here.” Some time passed, and the men attempted
to open the glass door separating the restaurant from the porch.
Finally, they figured it out, and handed us a bottle of 12 year Glenlivet whisky. Now, this is not an everyday occurrence. We profusely thanked them, and then to be kind, we asked, “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, he is the CEO of Glenlivet
Company in Asia, and we hope to promote whisky in Busan.”
Wow. Really? Holy Moly. We continued to talk to the gentlemen for
some time. Then, K filled the glasses with ice, while I poured the whisky.
Bitches get shit done, amirite?
I gave one to my friend, and she didn’t know what to do with it. I told her to swirl it just a little. She spun her wrist like a top. Bossily, I attacked, “Whoa! What are you doing?! Slowly! Just enough for the flavor to melt a little.”
The CEO looked at me and said, “You need to come and work for me. It is clear that you love whisky. Come, please, and teach people how to drink it. We are promoting both Jameson and Glenlivet in Busan soon. You can have your pick.”
Now, I don’t know if you believe in the afterlife, but I am pretty sure that sounds a lot (or alot) like heaven. I graciously thanked him for his offer, and continued pouring the spirits.
After that first bottle cracked
open, the night so very quickly degenerated. The fancy men left us with their
business cards and our hopes floating in a bottle.
And, the table across the porch were celebrating a proposal. We joined their party and had him re-propose to his fiancée, complete with us singing BoyzIIMen as the background music. He was from Connecticut; it was fine.
Then, I posted this photo onto the facebooks with the caption: “What did you do tonight? Meet the CEO of Glenlivet Whisky? Get offered a job at the new branch opening in Busan? No? Just me...oh, cool.”
The most poignant comment on this
absurdly long thread was this: “Dude, always take the dream job... That way there are no what ifs.”I thought about this for a moment. I realized that I already have my dream job. Right now, I get to teach my own curriculum to a group of creative and inspiring young women who care about things. I help them learn my mother tongue. I watch them play and create and succeed. I see that moment when confusion becomes understanding. And, I don’t care how much free Glenlivet I could drink, it isn’t worth giving up these little moments of perfection. I trudged into class today, far more fragile than I should have been, and my students surprised me, reminding me exactly why I became a teacher. There are no what-ifs. I know I am doing precisely what I am meant to do.
