It started with a party. The night was fresh and cool, idyllic but for bad dispositions and dread. The night would end, though, with incessant laughter. In between were 11 hours.
The party was for a website which Erin and Jason had founded. It had only gone online in the few hours preceding the actual launch party. Well in advance, my comrades and I had been invited, being generally friends. Tonight we would see fruition, if it dared show at a party.
The streets were crowded, and the cars honked everywhere. Street vendors were selling shirts and shoes; and some sold sweaters and socks; and some sold scarves and suits. Everywhere there were people: rich, poor, old, young, in love, alone. And we were five – myself and four others, on a way to a party in Apujeong, crammed into a cab, with four of us in the backseat, one up front, and a guitar in the trunk.
At a quarter after 7, we stopped and paid, and we made our way blindly through streets with names we didn’t comprehend. We sought landmarks and banks. We had no directions; our phone calls brought us no closer to our destination. Unable to find our way, we simply walked in a general direction along the main road, expecting to see two friends of ours who had said they would meet us there.
Jeff and Ally met us at a gas station, across from a bank. We followed them slowly, myself in the rear with Loren, whose shoes were too small and were bugging the shit out of her. In her pain she began to take slower and slower steps. Ally fell back and joined us.
Up ahead with Jeff were Andrew, Alana, and Elena. Andrew looked excited, but I doubted this was how he wished to spend the evening. Alana, who is forever up to anything, was ecstatic, jumping lightly with excitement. Her jacket made her a white bulb in the night. Elena was wolfing down cigarettes, clinging to herself in her blue dress and stockings, her long legs briskly walking. Her excitement mirrored Alana’s.
I was less excited; nervous being the more apt word. Sick but feeling fresh, I had waited with flagging excitement for the party. I never expected it to be anything more than a light thing, though it seemed odd to plan such a light thing so far in advance, and with such secrecy.
The party was down a side street. The place was somewhat crowded already.
We placed our names on the list, grabbed our free beer tickets, and headed to a seat. We then ate and fraternized, and watched as the crowd swelled. Soon there were over a hundred, and eventually there were over two hundred. The music was loud but ever in the background, as chatter replaced the simmer of the melodies coming out of the speakers.
A man was selling souvenirs – necklaces and purses, things to raise money for a charity that was attempting to promote the use of birth control in Africa. He spoke before us all in front of a microphone, and under the lights told us how the Catholic Church frowns on the use of contraceptives such as condoms in Africa, and how as a result of unprotected sex AIDS and unwanted pregnancies are common and problematic. He was an older man, in his late 30s. Most everyone else was in their mid20s. He was bent, a dip in his posture, and he had beads around his neck, and a black v-neck shirt. He made a lot of money that night.
No word yet on what are the fortunes of the women in Africa.
There was some dancing, and lots of drinking. There were cheese balls and tomatoes, pretzels and bottles of water. I had one of those latter things. There was wine, too: at a table full of people sampling a bottle of red wine dark as the sea, I posed for a picture and smiled pleasantly like it was natural.
I grabbed a bowl and piled in some tortilla chips. I applied some cheese sauce and had nachos, moving to a different table, bringing my jacket with me. The mike was opened up to performers. The first man did covers and sang like a songbird. A young woman, shy and artless, came up and sang a few sad tunes. And the crowd dipped into melancholy.
Then a man stepped up to the microphone, full of confidence and with an intense face, and he shredded his guitar for us. Sitting down, I had to stand up and take in the performance visually. The crowd applauded when it was over. Through their buzzed stares, they saw, as I did, how good he was. The music went on for an hour or more, in spite of the fraternizing guests, who paid little attention. Loren, now barefoot and comfortable, sang a few songs, too, with her sweet voice like a full breath released.
At 9:30, or shortly thereafter, a band showed up. They sang three songs. They were a novelty act that sang about the peculiarities of Korea. Everyone sang along quite elatedly, myself included. Their concluding number, set to the music of Queen’s “We Will Rock You,” was a lament at the fact that it is impossible to find Taco Bell here.
The party's focus shifted outside as it became more crowded. There was a grill, and hot dogs for everyone. And a man was selling cigars, though not for the benefit of any charity. I liked him better than the other guy. People smoked. Andrew pretended to be a carnival barker. On the urging of my friends (“The beer is free, just have one”), I got a glass and sipped it idly. Later, I slipped into the bathroom and threw most of its contents out. Apart from a Jello shot later, and a sip of something much later in the night, I would remain alcohol free the entire night, which quite pleased me.
There were caricaturists, and fortune tellers. The fortune tellers left unexpectedly early. I had my caricature drawn. The lady asked me to stare at her pointedly, and without ceasing. I did: I smiled and stared into her eyes. She held my stare. When it was over, I thanked her.
Then I showed myself off to the others. Ally laughed! Jeff thought I looked like Elvis Presley.
By now it was 11, and with all the noise, conversation became untenable. I sank into my chair and reached for my jacket. I pulled out a notebook and wrote for the next hour, while the drinks continued to pour, and the prizes started to be awarded. I never win prizes. I grabbed a handful of snacks and guzzled them down with more water. They were saltine crackers, topped with a thin slice of sharp cheddar, a slice of ham, and a lovely cherry tomato, cut in half, facing down. They were scrumptious, and I chucked them down my throat like tic tacs. My pen dried up, and I was forced to stop writing.
Among the many prizes awarded were bottles of Soju, a popular rice whiskey here. Other prizes included t-shirts and concert tickets. The grand prize was a pair of tickets to the idyllic Jeju Island, which is a tropical (supposed) paradise off the coast of South Korea.
Many people won prizes. Elena was one of the lucky recipients of the Soju bottle. She turned it over to me for safekeeping, for she knew I would not drink it.
After midnight, the party thinned. The ones who remained protested its ending. They decided that we should all go to another place, for dancing – and drinking. I followed them. We made our way away, down through the alleys of Apujeong, to a dancing club called Monkey Beach. But it was too crowded.
As we sat outside the club, doing nothing, all of us wondering where next we should go, I found a bucket, like the kind you make sand castles with at the beach. Feeling silly, I started trying to stand on it and maintain my balance. Jeff counted the seconds, and at last I managed a ten-second stand before losing my balance and crashing to the ground. Everyone gasped, but I laughed uproariously. They soon laughed with me. Despite being completely sober, I was acting more drunk than any of them. And I was quite giddy.
The time dragged on. Spotting a barricade down a side path in the alley, I dragged the bucket over with my foot. I planned to kick the bucket over the barricade. But I failed; I shanked it right, and on that course it collided angrily with Andrew’s right leg.
Andrew was not happy. “Goddamn, what the fuck? Goddammit, what the fuck are you doing? You're goddamn sober, you're acting like a fucking moron."
“I'm so sorry, dude,” I said, even as I laughed. I tried to stop, but as I tried, I just laughed harder.
And Andrew, annoyed and tired, decided to take a cab home. He left with a few others. By now it was past 2. The rest of us, we trekked endlessly, never finding a good place to go, finally ending up nowhere as a large crowd in need of several taxis. Our disorganization showed, as four of us were left behind with no idea where the others had gone. Those four were: Matt, Sydney, Junga, and me.
Fortunately, Elena had retrieved her bottle of Soju from me a few minutes earlier, or else she’d have been pissed. Alana was drunk. Loren was in the cab with her, and together they managed to tell the cab driver to pull over so she could vomit. She and Loren ended up calling it an early night around 3.
Now the crowd was down to about 15 people, though some of us were still in Apujeong. Matt decided his night was through: he called a cab and went home. Junga did the same. Sydney and I took a cab to Seoyheon (pronounced soy-yawn), which is where we found out the others had gone. We arrived in 20 minutes, after the cabbie took us there in record time, driving upwards of 120 km/h. We texted and phoned and found out the others were at Posse, a Western bar. We made for that place, but when we arrived it was empty. We scanned around, but no one was there. We headed out, frustrated, and we considered a voyage to the Krispy Kreme across the plaza. But before a couple minutes passed we received a call and met up with Erin and Jason. They had gotten a bite to eat and thus were also separated from the rest of the party, which, by this time, was at a place called Under Construction. After 20 minutes of not finding this place, we received another call that they were at Dublin, an Irish pub. So we went away to that place, and to our delight found everyone there.
Or, rather, what was left of everyone. The crowd was now less than 10. Elena, full-on drunk, was sitting at the bar, nursing something or other. Jared was also there, but he appeared relatively sober. Jackie and Kayleigh were sitting at a table. Jared's jacket was draped over the next chair. Sydney sat down next to Jackie and Kayleigh, and I sat down with these three. Jason and Erin sat down at the next table. They spent the remainder of the night chatting with people I didn’t know. Erin ordered some drinks, and Jackie ordered some Chili Cheese Chips, which is a delicious, however unhealthy, confection. I stared at Jackie with interest. She looked as out of place as I did, or at least felt. The four of us chatted for two hours, until just before 5 o'clock.
And we ate the Chili Cheese Chips. And they marveled that I'd never tried whiskey. And we talked about jobs. And then the night apparently drew closer to a close. I bid farewell to Jackie, who lived far away. A few minutes later, I climbed into a cab with Kayleigh and Elena. Elena sat up front, drunk, while Kayleigh and I sat in the back, well within our wits. We rode for about half an hour, till almost 5:30, when we pulled up at a place near our apartments. Here Elena and I said farewell to Kayleigh.
Much to our surprise, Erin and Jason had also arrived in a cab, just a few seconds before us. We walked with them. Elena, in her high steels, stumbled. I offered to try to carry her back to her apartment. We all laughed, because we didn't think that was possible – and even I doubted it.
We did end up trying, though. But she didn't fully commit, and so it didn't happen. She assured me she could stay upright, and we left it at that. It was only a short walk. Erin and Jason, during mine and Elena's attempt to get her into my arms, had gone a different way. We didn’t know where they were. We walked, carefully. But then Elena started shouting, with as full a voice as she could: “Erin and Jason!” She shouted this again and again. And I laughed, and I laughed harder, till I had more trouble walking than she did.
“Erin and Jason!"
Up ahead, around the corner, they appeared, glancing at us in bewilderment – me, laughing my ass off, and Elena, drunk off her ass – both of us making a lot of noise for 5:30 in the morning. We walked the remainder of the way with them.
Elena went to her apartment first. Erin and Jason walked with me to mine. I thanked them for inviting me to the party, and I said that I enjoyed it immensely. They thanked me for coming, and then they went home, too.
When I got into my apartment, I sat down at my computer chair and checked my e-mail, as I always do. And then I slept, not to wake for the next six hours.
Once again, and as often, I have retreated fretfully into myself, to adjourn the proceedings of my life, and let all hang open, facing inward, to fall on itself. The past few weeks have found me not unhappy, but introspective, and desirous of a calm, quiet place. Maybe this is who I am, I wonder, that I should pull out from beyond whatever circles include me, forever following what fleshy and flowery things appeal to me.
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