Let me preface this by saying that I had a crazy busy week.  I worked a full week and then was out late every night due to trying to see people before I leave.  So when I had to get up at 4am on Friday after not getting to bed until 2am, I was a little disoriented.  When I left my house and set sail on my 6-hour-long journey, little did I know that, in my disheveled state, I had forgotten my wallet and my phone charger.

After about two hours on the road, I started to think about pulling over for some coffee and some gasoline.  I glanced around for my wallet, and there was no sign of it.  Instinctively, I knew.  I didn't have it.  Panic struck.

My first thought was to just drive and drive until I ran out of gas.  Then I could call my sister to help me out.  But she might have to drive over an hour to reach me, as there was no way I could travel another 4 hours on the gas that I had.  So I brainstormed until I realized that I have a retired father whose sole purpose in life is to bail out his crazy daughters whenever they get into desperate situations.  Lucky me.

I had another problem to face as well.  There is a toll on the Beacon bridge that I knew I had to pass through.  With no cash, no pennies to my name I started to get paranoid.  I was driving without a license.  Would they ask to see it?  Would they ticket me because I couldn't produce it?  Panic.  Panic again.

I drove silently in my car waiting until a reasonable hour before calling my dad to see if I could meet him in Danbury for some refuel.  At 7.45 I could not longer stand the anticipation.  My phone was dying and I figured it was a reasonable hour considering that until two weeks prior the man had been getting up at 5.30am, consistently for 35 years.  Turns out retirement is a funny thing.  It reverts you back into the good old teenage days of sleeping all day, or so I get the feeling as my father groggily answers the phone.  "Yeah?" "Did I wake you?" "Kinda."

Regardless, the plan to meet my father was underway and I had just enough gas to make it.  Just enough.  But now I had another problem to face.  The toll booth.  And the only way out was through.

I get to the toll booth and I am redirected into the parking lot on the side.  I am told to go into the office.  I go in a try and explain my situation.  I fill out the form to have a bill sent to me.  Then, the ticket booth lady walks over to her purse, pulls out a five dollar bill and hands it to me.  'In case you get desperate," she says.  I try and assure her I'll be fine but she insists I take it.  There is good in this world.

Yong Pyeong And Other Tales

I decided I needed to experience some "real" skiing this year.  I googled "best places to ski in Korea."  For website recommendations and from recommendations from my students, I decided the northernmost town of Yong Pyeong was the place to go.

I climbed aboard the bus to take me to the mountain where "tourists come from around the world to ski."  (I should know better, I MAJORED in PR.)  I sat next to an old woman and a young boy who was clearly her grandson.  When we got to the bus rest stop I didn't exit the bus and instead opted to stay on board and nap.  However, I did not stop to consider how my actions would affect others.

Apparently, my staying on the bus alarmed the old woman.  "Oh poor foreigner" I imagine she was thinking "she has no idea what's going on."  She must be STARVING after TWO WHOLE HOURS on the bus with no food."

She MUST have been thinking this for when she and her grandson boarded the bus again the grandson plopped a bag of red bean bread onto my lap and egregiously yelled in the most adorable cutest way EVER "이것 주세오!!"  "Take this please!"

I almost died of his cuteness.  And a few minutes later they thought I must be so thirsty so they gave me a can of mushroom oak juice.  Thank you adorable little boy and grandmother for your mushroom juice water!!

On another note, the "mountain" that tourists travel to from around the world turned out to be a hill.  Yeah, I said it.  It's a hill.

Scenes (of pain, horror, and regret) from a Korean Restaurant - Part 1-The Chai-nese

I am starting a new sub-series of posts called "Scenes (of pain, horror, and regret) from a Korean Restaurant" documenting my horrid experience as a waitress at a Korean restaurant in Pennsylvania.

I feel I have to just dive in here instead of attempting to explain just how horrible this job has been, because it's barely possible to explain in person where hand gestures are involved, let alone though words solely.

This post is dedicated to my boss's hatred of the Chinese, or as she pronounces it, the Chai-nese (emphasis on the first syllable.)

My boss is Korean. (North Korean I choose to believe based on her temperament, but that's besides the point.)  She's Korean and naturally, as an asian, she's racist against other asians.  Fair enough.  But not only does she take it too far, she drags me into it as well.

It all started a few months ago.  I have, since I began working at this restaurant, been terrified of my boss because she is big, scary, and um, BAT SHIT CRAZY.  So whenever she calls me over to talk at (or 99% of the time, yell at) me I look her in the eye and nod and agree with everything she has to say to me.  "You did this wrong, you did that wrong, blah blah blah!!!!" This happens EVERY SINGLE DAY and all of us who work there just take it and agree with her.

Boss: "You did this WRONG!!!!!!!!!"

Waitresses:  "Yes."  "Ok."  "Sorry."  "Yes."   :-(

This is what we have to do because there is no defending yourself at this restaurant, you'll only make things WAAYY worse.  Just agree with the boss and soon the yelling will stop.  Usually.  Well, sometimes.

So like I said, a while back some incident occurred and she choose me to yell at on this particular day. Keep in mind, my boss can't see 90% of the customers because she's always in the back cooking.  If something occurs most of the time she is just assuming, just based on unfair prejudices that the Chinese are the cause of the incident.

Incident 1

Boss:  "Kay-tee!  Why customer is complain?"
Me:  "I don't know, they wanted the food less salty."
Boss:  "No!  I can't!  The food is not TOO salty."
Me:  "Yes."
Boss:  "So why is complain?"
Me:  "I don't know..."
Boss:  "Ugh!  Chai-nese, I can't understand.  Why is too salty is no.  Not too salty."
Me:  "Yes.  Ok.  Sorry."

Over the past two weeks, this has been happening like crazy.

Incident 2

Boss:  "Kay-tee.  Why is customer put the door open?"
Me:  "I don't know.  He asked to open the door and I said I can't and then he did it anyway."
Boss:  "No.  Close the door.  Air conditioner is working.  He is Chai-nese.  Chai-nese is always open the door.  I don't want."
Me:  "Yes."

Incident 3

Boss: "Kay-tee.  Why customer is pay at the front the check?  I don't want!!"
Me:  "I don't know, I brought the check but they didn't give me their card they just came up."
Boss:  "No!  I don't want because it's always the Chai-nese and always they are too noisy.  They pay the check and make the line and is too noisy.  Chai-nese people is very loud."
Me:  "Yes. Ok. Sorry."

Now the thing is, when it comes to my boss bitching about Chinese people, she only seems to yell at me.  Why?  Does she think I agree?  I certainly do not.  Everyone does the things that she gets mad about, but for some reason she believes it is only the Chinese doing these "horrible" things which will ultimately bring the downfall and demise of her restaurant.

Incident 4:

Boss:  "Kay-tee!  Why is customer wants more the rice?"
Me:  "I don't know...they asked for more rice."
Boss:  "Ugh!  I can't understand the Chai-nese.  Why they need the more rice?  It's not good."
Me:  "Yes."

Incident 5:

Boss:  "Kaytee!  Why is customer is food complain?"
Me:  "They said they wanted the food more quickly."
Boss:  "I can't understand the Chai-nese.  This is Korean food!  Cook time is long or taste is not good!  I think the Chai-nese food is not too good and they don't understand, we are not Chai-nese food we are Korean food and time is more and food taste is better."
Me: "Yes."

Incident 6:

Boss:  "Kay-tee!  Why is customer order and all people are not here?"
Me:  "She said she's very hungry and wants to order right away."
Boss:  "No!  Why is the Chai-nese always too quickly.  They need to wait.  It is not too good and the order is together not too many times."
Me:  "Yes."

What will the Chai-nese do wrong tomorrow?  Only time will tell.

WhyI'll Never Again Sit Atop A Double-Decker Bus

On our second day in Dublin, we decided to journey outward to a town named Howth. On our way back, we decided to sit atop the double-decker bus that was transporting us. We were traveling along and looking out for our stop all the while chatting with a friendly Irishman. Soon enough it was his time to get off the bus and thus we were alone on top of the bus waiting for our stop. After a while the bus parked and turned off. It wasn't our street so we, confused as we were, figured maybe the bus driver just stepped out for a cigarette or something. So we waited. After a few minutes we realized something was wrong, the driver wasn't coming back, so we walked down the stairs to the bottom of the bus. The bus was empty and the bus driver was gone. Logically the next step was to just get off the bus. Well wouldn't that be so simple, but as we pulled and pulled on the door we realized we were locked in the bus. We were trapped inside the bus. As we stood there, dazed and confused, a girl walked by with a mix of confusion and amusement on her face. She pressed the button on the outside of the bus that opened the doors and out we went. I wish I could have seen the expression on the bus driver's face when he went back to his bus and the doors (which he left closed) were open.

Sticker Car

While cleaning out my room this summer I came across my sticker collection. I used to collect stickers like crazy. So I had a lot of stickers in this box I found. But I never stuck them on anything and I felt they were being wasted. In a moment of sheer genius I had the idea of putting said stickers all over my car. Afraid I wasn’t considering all potential consequences of putting stickers on my car, I decided to tell my mother of my plan. Of course she says to me “don’t you DARE put stickers on your car.” Well, of course now I wanted to put the stickers on even more. But, I was still feeling that there was a potential consequence being over-looked. So I told her that I would listen to reason if she had a good argument as to why I shouldn’t put stickers on my car. To this serious request for insight she responds “because that's not what stickers are for.”

And so has begun the process of stickering my car. The process is nowhere near complete. What scares me is that I started stickering about three weeks ago and it has not rained at all since I started stickering. So I’m on the edge of my seat wondering what will happen when the inevitable day comes. In the meanwhile it’s great watching peoples reactions to my car as I drive around. I’ve been getting some smiles, some thumbs up, and some other friendly glances. Glad I can provide amusement. However, I guess I can no longer use Lucille as a getaway vehicle. After that car! It’s the one with the stickers! I can’t hide. I guess there IS a consequence…

Diner Regulars

After spending the entire day yesterday alone in my empty apartment trying to be productive while having nothing in my life actually needing to get done, around 8.30 I decided it was time to venture out into the world.

I brought my camera along, but shortly after leaving my apartment realized there is barely anything photo-worthy in State College. That's when I decided I really wanted ice cream and so off to Rita's I went. Well, of course Rita's is closed for the season (the one time I'm in the mood for Rita's) so I headed to The Diner.

I walked into The Diner and there was a group of people sitting at the counter where I was hoping to sit. Luckily there was another empty counter. One of the people sitting at the first counter was a waitress and she asked if I wanted a booth and I told her I'd just sit at the counter by myself. She said "Sit with us! We're friendly people." So I sat with them.

First, they gave me free cookies from Insomnia Cookies. Then, I got more free cookies in my ice cream sundae. Then I got free hot chocolate. I kind of recognized one of the waitresses from about a year ago when I was in The Diner. I wanted to mention this but was unsure how to bring it up without sounding like a stalker. So, I said "Hey, weren't you in Barcelona?" (We conversed about this the last time we were in The Diner you see). But of course, this sounded creepy. However once I explained that I seriously wasn't a creeper this became a conversation.

Turns out, there are State College Diner regulars. They are all very nice. One of them gave me 5 cents in military money (which looks like a pog).

Anyway, moral of the story is: sometimes when you're lonely, you should go to your local diner and hang out with the diner regulars and they will be your friend.

And...Dead

Picture this: you're playing a game of Assassins. You plan to attack and kill your target on a Saturday night because let's face it, you have nothing better to do. So you wait in the trash chute room right next to his apartment in his apartment building...for three hours. It's 2am, he's still not home. So you give up. You leave and just as you get back home you get a text from your informant telling you that your target is on his way home. You run like the wind back to your hiding place. He comes walking down the hall and you can't wait any longer so you jump out and awkwardly kill him with the Nerf gun.

So now you feel proud of yourself. You've got your first target, you're better than people that just died right away. Now you have to get your next target. You're invincible now, you have confidence. You're in this to win this.

A few nights later around 2am you get a suspicious text from someone who is a mere acquaintance inviting you to the bar. You're no fool, you know it's your assassin, so you hide away in your apartment. But you're scared because now you know your assassin is serious, and tricky.

So now you start to get paranoid. You're place of work is only right across the street from where you live, yet you fear leaving your apartment. You're become agoraphobic, and for good reason.

A few days go by and you have to leave work, get into your friends car parked across the street, and run some errands. However, you've been informed that your assassin is in your apartment complex, stalking you. So you tell your friend to pick you up at work, thinking you can't possibly be harmed walking a mere 3 feet. Wrong. As you leave, and you run into your friends van and close the door, without any time to lock the door the door is being slid open. It's your assassin. You try to hold the door closed while screaming at the top of your lungs "DRIVE!! DRIVE GODDAMMIT!!" but alas, the driver does nothing, you are weak and thus your assassin opens the door and manages to kill you. You're dead.

The worst part of it all is as it turns out, your death was an elaborate plot carried out by one of your best friends who says the destruction of the paranoia eating away at your soul was more than he could bare to watch.  So he decided to help end it all.