IS STUPIDITY A LIFESTYLE CHOICE?

It’s a good question. I don’t know the answer, but I guess the answer is yes. But sometimes you do stupid things, you know exactly you’re doing some stupid thing, but you just let it happen to you because you want to believe in make-believe. That’s always been a small problem of mine from time to time. An irrational belief in make-believe. Or, with apologies to Paul Simon, maybe I still am crazy after all these years.

I’m listening to Leonard Cohen now which is never a good sign. I like him but he isn’t exactly the most cheerful voice you can listen to. I think if you’re up, he can bring you down. And if you’re down, he can make sure you stay there.

I went to Seoul yesterday and met Robert there. We were to meet at Starbucks (where else?) but as I was almost there I called him and asked if he would mind if we skipped Starbucks and got a drink. I’m not a big drinker. I haven’t gone out drinking in Korea for the purpose of drinking. I’ve had the odd drink but that’s it, but yesterday I wanted a drink. Since this rarely happens to me, it doesn’t frighten me. So Robert (also not a big drinker) was kind enough to indulge me.

We picked a bar at random and went in. We were two of the few people in there. I may appear to be cynical, but I really am a trusting person. If you tell me something, I’ll believe you. I can be naïve. I looked naïve up in the dictionary and it was my picture there. And you know what, sometimes you just want to believe things even though deep inside you know it’s not real.

I ordered a Bloody Mary and it was awful, but I drank it. While I was drinking it a young lady came in to the bar to work. Since there were next to no people in the bar, there didn’t seem to be much work to do, but you only need 1 customer to do this work.

She sat down beside me and started talking to me. My drink was starting to have an effect (plus the 2nd and 3rd to come) on me, and I was feeling a little better than depressed. This woman’s English was good and we were chatting. I asked her how old she was. She asked me why did I want to know, and I said I was doing a Korean thing. Korean’s are quite straightforward with some questions, and the age question is one of them. She told me 30 which may be true. I’m no good at guessing ages, and even worse at Oriental ages. She asked me how old I was and I said guess. She looks at me closely and says 38. Is that what she really thought? Maybe, maybe not. I think Orientals aren’t so great at guessing Western ages.

I asked her if she had a boyfriend and she said no. So I said something that I must have heard in a movie somewhere, because I swear I’ve never said this before. “Why doesn’t a pretty girl like you have a boyfriend”. I love alcohol sometimes. So she plays modest and I tell her how pretty she is. I’m playing my part perfectly.

She asks if I’ll buy her a drink. I think, “why not”. I’m enjoying this game. She’s playing with my arms, and she’s playing with my eyebrows (they can go wild), and she’s holding my hand, and sometimes human touch can go a long way depending on how you feel. A lot of times I might have felt, “don’t touch me”, but my emotional balance lately craved human connection.

I asked her out. I don’t know if I’ve ever asked out a girl in a bar. I don’t think so. She says yes, so a little light goes on thinking “this isn’t real”, but I make a conscious decision to ignore it. I said we could go out and learn more about each other. She said we could have coffee and talk, go for dinner, and then walk and hold hands. I thought that was a strange thing to say, but hey, it’s what I wanted to hear.

“Will you buy me another drink?” Sure, I’m happy to. I give her my phone number and she says she’ll call me around noon to set up a meet. Part of me knows this isn’t real, part of me wants to ignore what I know and pretend. Sometimes I think that’s pathetic, but other times it doesn’t seem pathetic. It’s just some kind of basic need for a connection. One of the most important things in life, is connections. I want to believe in them.

We’re talking, she has her arms around me, and I’m buying drinks. I had no money so I asked Robert if he would cover me and I’d pay him back later. He said no problem and I don’t know what he’s thinking. I am quite aware that I’m being kind of rude to him, but maybe he’s enjoying me making a “fool” out of myself. I guess I could have charged admission.

On about the 5th drink of hers I ask her to give me her glass. She says, “why?” I said I wanted to smell the wine but she wouldn’t give me the glass. Strange. I asked her why she wouldn’t let me smell it, and she said, “don’t you trust me?” I had my doubts before but with that I had pretty much no doubt about what was happening.

Now even though I know all this, I play along a little longer because I want to. I want to pretend that some attractive young woman finds me attractive and charming and interesting. Why not? I’m not a bad person. I just have these dreams that sometimes cause people (including me) trouble.

At one point the glass was on the bar so I just picked it up and smelled it. It had as much wine in it as tap water does. I knew this before, but I was saddened to have it confirmed.

I wasn’t going to write this up. I said to Robert later that this would make a good blog entry and he agreed. I said I can’t write this up as it might upset some people and some people just wouldn’t understand it. He said it’s my blog, and I should write what I want. I gave it a lot of thought, and it’s part of what’s happening in my life, and my mood. I am what I am and sometimes I’m not the shiniest penny. Why advertise it to the world? Because it’s part of me, and it doesn’t make me a bad or evil person. I suffer from depression at times and bouts of almost unbearable loneliness. When these things happen, you really want to believe that some great miracle can happen. Intellectually you know it can’t happen, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting so hard to believe.

After my 3rd drink (as I said, I’m not a big drinker), it’s time to split and look for dinner. I’m given the tab and the price for the “wine” was beyond absurd. I just said, “I’m not paying these prices”. The young woman who seemed to fancy me, wasn’t quite as warm anymore. I wonder why? She says, “didn’t I know it would cost that?” I told her that I’d never been in a bar like this before so I had no idea. I told her that I was a trusting person and that I thought everything was on the up and up. She says, “don’t you have a credit card?” I told her I didn’t and she asked me why I didn’t have a credit card. I told her that credit cards can get you in trouble. I said I didn’t have the money they wanted and I wasn’t paying that.

The manager/bartender woman offers to make me a special deal. Fifty percent off. I said no. I gave them the price I would pay. It was too much, but I chose to play the “fool” so there is a penalty to pay. We’re haggling over the price when I said, “Okay, call the police and we’ll settle this”. She said, “Don’t say police” and accepted my payment.

The woman who was sitting with me, walks me to the door. I told her that I didn’t know that this sort of thing went on and that I trusted that everything was on the up and up. I told her that she should call me the next day if she wanted to spend some time with a decent person and we could go out for coffee and conversation. She said she’d call because she was still playing her part. Robert and I departed that fine establishment.

Was I upset? No, not at all. I was laughing. I’d never been hit up by a “B” girl. Maybe if I hung out in bars more, I’d know more. It was a new experience, it was Fantasy Island, it took my mind off my problems, and I saw the humor in all of it. Robert said he’d be upset if he was taken like that. However, he sees life as a tragedy and I see it as a comedy. I know I was stupid, I know I threw money away, but I had a good time without problems for a little while, and I had a good laugh.

So, I chose to be stupid if you want to call it stupid. I can see calling it that. But I don’t feel stupid. I felt naïve and a touch pathetic for wanting to believe the unbelievable.

We went out for dinner at a Greek restaurant for the mixed platter. It was expensive but pretty good. However, Robert has an appetite a little bigger than the average bear, so after dinner he bought 2 additional skewers of meat for dessert. Then it was off to Starbucks for the coffee.

It was a very enjoyable evening for me. Robert is a good friend who forgives my rudeness and quirks as friends should do. He also will speak his mind even if it’s things that are not very complimentary about me. That’s fine. I appreciate his honesty. Sometimes I agree, and sometimes I don’t. But I am always grateful for his honesty.

I got home and had a craving to talk to voices from across the world. I made a few phone calls but the only answer I got was Leah, and she was at work so she could only talk for a minute. Scott said to call back in half an hour which I did and we touched base. It was good to hear his voice. I left a message for Laura and she called back which was nice since there are only 2 people who have ever called me in Korea. One is Laura and the other is Scott. I don’t dwell on that too much because I’m afraid it would really bother me if I gave it a lot of thought.

Oh, by the way, this girl didn’t call me today. Probably good that she didn’t, because I might have had a heart attack. What a way to make a living, being nice to stupid men to get them to buy you overpriced drinks. I’m not passing judgment. I just think it’s sad. I really would have loved to talk to her about her job, and what she thought of it.

I just read today. I think I’m feeling a little run down and tired. People keep asking me if I’m tired, and most of the time I say, “no, do I look tired?” They reply yes. I know sometimes I am, and other times I feel physically drained, like I’ve been beaten up by a gang of thugs. So today I did nothing.

I had an email from a person I met when I lived in Gwangyang. If you remember, I called him once because I had his number but thought he was someone else. We went out, and then another time I went to his apartment and met his wife. He’s back in Australia now, and he sent me an email out of the blue. Nice man and I was glad to hear from him. A small connection, but a nice thing.

I just wish I could always remember that there are more good things in life than bad things. It really is hell when you don’t remember that.