Landed - the sequel

The trip up to Incheon was uneventful other than for the fact that I almost took a trip up to Icheon, which is a different place entirely (As the MAF-Despised Wikipedia notes, "Icheon is a city in Gyeonggi Province, South Korea. It should not be confused with the much larger Incheon Metropolitan City"). I found the Dong-bu bus station exactly where it should be, and wandered up and bought a ticket to Incheon. The gates were right behind me, and glancing at my ticket I saw that I was loading at gate 6. After a few minutes of waiting, the bus pulled into its slip and I hopped onboard. A rather ratty bus. I began watching the other passengers and noticed that no one had boarded with any luggage. This seemed mickle weird, as at least some of them would presumably be leaving Korea and they’d at least have to have, on them, enough kimchi to live through the external experience. I looked up at the schedule on the inside of the bus and it said,

이전 rather than what I would have guessed, 인전

(I’m sure I screwed something up in the second syllable there, but this was not where the problem was going to occur).

I pondered on this for a second, balancing the likelihood that the bus company would make a mistake on its own busses (in Korean, that is) against the off-chance that I was big retard. I made a provisional judgment that the bus company was in error.

Just to check that, I looked at my ticket which, lo and behold, said 인전 was my destination. This substantially increased the chance that I was a big retard, and when the driver went by I held my ticket up and asked him, “Incheon airport, neh?” and was answered with a big old “anio.” I was on the wrong bus. I had three minutes to spare, however, and did make it to the correct bus. Then a 3 hour ride up to the airport, about an hour waiting there, and once OAF had landed, about another hour waiting for the bus and a 2:40 trip back down.

We got to the pad and decided we needed something to drink and some toilet paper. So we headed across the street to the store and at the table in front of it were two other waeguk from BPU, sitting at the table and finishing of their “third or fourth” Korean 52-ouncer. It was the drunken Aussie and my mentor, both of whom are quite entertaining. We exchanged national insults and BPU gossip for about 45 minutes and when the bottle was empty, we departed.

Of course I forgot to pick up the toilet paper.

Got back to the apartment and the OAF unpacked some things. Including a rather alarming pile of nasty rubber novelties. When preparing to leave for Korea the OAF had headed to Planned Parenthood to contraceptive up. PP told her they could only give a prescription for 3-months. The last I had heard, OAF was going in to argue this, since she was going to be out of the country for a year.

When she told the PP woman she was going to South Korea, the PP woman said, “Omigod,” and pulled out 12 months worth of generic birth-control pills that she said she could give away without prescription. But she also tossed in 5 strips of condoms, each with a Canadian maple leaf on the wrapper and the motto “PROPER ATTIRE Required for entry.” For ultra-safety she also included two packets of the Plan B “day after” pills. In case I suck in bed, there are also two packets of water-based lube.

As Major (King) Kong said in “Dr. Strangelove” “A fella could have a pretty good weekend in Vegas with this stuff…”

All I could wonder were two things. First, what kind of reputation does South Korea have, and why, with Planned Parenthood in the United States. Second, what in the world would have Korean immigration have made of this spectacular contraceptive over-planning had they opened her suitcase?

Anyway, if any of you get into any unprotected sex scenes in Korea, give us a call just before or just after (you know, at the point you’re either still clothed or re-clothed) and we have the shite to fix you right up.

The next morning we set out on a tour of the local environs and ran into a couple more BPU-ites, ADAM and Thumper McStomp (twice) who were heading out to photograph cranes. At the last minute TSR answered his phone and so we jammed uphill for some quick coffee and tea. TSR had some good, and reassuring, advice for the OAF[1]. TSR’s all around “good-guy” quotient is appallingly high, and I’m glad he’s leaving Korea![2]

Then it was packing the OAF into a cab to Daejeon Station, with me following on foot just in case there was any problem (I didn’t want to arrive with her – we’ve decided the Hagwon shouldn’t know about me unless issues arise). By the time I got to the station, OAF wasn’t there. So either the cabdriver kidnapped her, or the meeting went off well.

I walked back to the Bohemian Love Pad, where I type these notes. Contemplating a quick trip to the PC Bang and then maybe inviting TSR out for some courtyard bulgogi at one of the local patio restaurants. If the OAF comes free from her director tonight, and gets in touch, she’ll come along as well.

The next couple of months should be fun!


[1] Something along the lines of, “keep your powder dry, damn the torpedoes, and dump the fat guy.”
[2] “sniffle…”