I Guess You Could Say I Sort of Like the Sound of My Own Voice...
But who doesn't? After surviving a long week at a work "offsite" (i.e. take everyone to a hotel in the middle of nowhere, balance 12 hour meetings with trust falls and cocktail hours, repeat), I felt like doing this, and was in desperate need of a bump - or at least a bender.
Enter my guilty Japanese pleasure. Oh how I wish that referred to something else.
My Friday night began innocently enough at a hipster lounge serving stiff drinks and dim sum. Somewhere around midnight, however, we found ourselves in what appeared to be a neighbor's unfinished basement singing along to "Summer of '69" via lyrics displayed on a 23" television (circa 1985). After a few hours of sneaking drinks out of the family liquor cabinet, we proceeded back upstairs with the intentions of calling it a night. Low and behold, we ran smack into a band of 10-15 South Korean football hooligans! Jerseys, face paint, you name it. You know how I feel about South Korean football fans, so there was no way I was going home without infiltrating this band of
The SoKo's had just witnessed their team's World Cup dream come to an abrupt end thanks to those snooty French bastards, so we decided to grab a few bottles of saki and commiserate with them on their loss. In no time, we were doing saki bomb deathmatches. It was heaven, really. There were high fives all around, lessons in Korean cursing, and a lot of Hello Kitty. Just kidding.
It was a great way to end the week, and a close rival to Champion House folklore.
posted by cjb at 12:09 PM
9 Comments:
Were you able to satiate your, um, "interest" in the Pacific Rim?
That Champion House folklore mentioned above is the closest CJB's come to satiating his interest in the Pacific Rim. Gupta, remember?! Those were the days... Worst double date plan ever. And that was before CJB got us kicked out of Charleys.
Shoople, I agree that the Champion House double date really blew up in my face, but at the same I regret nothing. Oh man, that night was an all time classic. Who could forget lines like, "Shoople and I call front seat"?
As for CJB, let us not forget that even though his *last* saki bomb was at Champion House, his saki bomb before that was at...wait for it...YOUR MOM'S HOUSE. I've already assumed you used that gem with your SoKo comrades, was anything lost in translation?
CJB, did you tell the SoKo's that in the US, our broadcast is supplemented with live video streams straight from the Staples Center, mysteriously filled to the brim with hundreds of thousands of screaming SoKo's? It must be like a dream!
Amen to the front seat request. I vaguely remember seriously offending most of our fellow Champion House diners. That was the night that it became painfully clear that CJB and I weren't meant to be (but "worst phase-out plan ever" being what it was, I'm still here!). At least we got a nice meal out of it (i.e., record-breaking quantities of Japanese meat chunks and alcohol). Which was all CJB & I were really about in the first place.
On another note, "HFs all around" was a pleasantly family-friendly version of the usual. Love it.
yes did you make nice with anyone surrounded by men and wearing a belly shirt?
i know this is totally unrelated, but will you please go to wimbledon this week so i can live vicariously through you?
Honestly, I'm disappointed that it was only HFs and not HJs all around. I guess Sharon had to be there. And doesn't she, really, have dibs on the front seat? Brattani can get my back on this one.
Hmm, and maybe next time I ride shotgun, the taxi driver that yall pimp me out to will be a little more chivalrous and make yall walk home-- Instead of just leering at me with sideways glances only to shout out, "You don't have to go home alone, Sharon" when we exit the car.
Love the comments.
In summary, my last saki bomb was indeed at your mom's house, I am going to Wimbledon on Friday (more to come, and hopefully the elusive Agassi match will finally be seen, Sharon undoubtedly has dibs on the front seat (forever), and if someone had told me that a critical mass of South Korean's chill at the Staples Center I never would have left the country during this year's tournament. Ah, the pain of missed opportunities.
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