Damn it all to hell.

This is from the end of July
Last night, at last, was supposed to be the night that I figured out getting home in a taxi. Despite so not feeling ready for it, even after 7 months here. Because as I've mentioned before, nothing's as easy outside the US as it is in the US (though apparently there are city or suburb cabs in the airports, and they can only go to that specific destination, no others). So, getting a cab from one suburb, I've been told and experienced, isn't as simple a matter as just finding a free cab and even giving them your address in Korean. They'll say no because they're not going that way, it's too far/not convenient to home or break, or they just don't want to deal with someone who speaks a different language. Never mind whether or not they can actually go to... wherever you want/need to go.

This is the second night that, instead of experimenting with the cabs and discovering the ease or difficulty of it, regardless of proximity, I stayed up all night until public transport was up and running again.

The first time was when I went out with another Jennifer, a Brit I met at yoga pants wine night. I found a bona fide, really good craft cocktail bar, HARD AS HELL though it was to locate. We had a nice time talking, and then she said afterwards she was going to meet her school gang in Seoul. And the guys in particular are just so great and so fun and I'd love them. I decide to go up with her, but as it's 10:30 at night, knowing the trains stop at about midnight, I ask her how she gets home. "Take a cab, or stay up all night until the trains run again." Though I am a night owl, I definitely don't think the latter is an option for me. Especially with my phone, as usual, so low on battery, which is especially concerning since that's where my home address is saved in Korean.

We get to this crappy Korean bar, which honest-to-God all seem to vie to resemble the dankest dive bar in the US, to find about 10 of Jennifer's close friends gathered around. If you know me at all, you know that even with a really good friend there with me, anymore than 4 or so strangers is a bit too much for me to handle, and I will simply sit and observe, waiting to see whom I might like, and waiting to see if there's an in to any interesting conversations.

In this case, with a group of early-to-mid-20-somethings playing some lame drinking game, the answer appeared to be not really on most counts. I have no drink because I had 3 at the cocktail bar, and when it's Koreans handling the mixing and measuring, there is shit to drink here. Next, everyone in the group has to hold up a hand if they've done what was mentioned (jumped out of an airplane, for example). This sort of information is fun when you're young and have a life ahead of you to plan on doing such things should you want to, or give any shits if the people at the table have because it's somehow interesting to learn whether or not your friends have done something so daring. But I don't care about these people, and find none of what any of them have or haven't done enthralling or even slightly entertaining. The only thing that's keeping me here is waiting for my almost-dead phone to charge behind the bar so I can either test out this whole cab thing, or go to the nearby 24-hour cafe and fiddle around on my phone until the trains run.

Soon enough, most of the group is heading to Homo Hill (yes that's the actual name of the small gay bar section of Seoul) to dance. All of you should likewise know my feelings on dancing and noisy clubs, and how I am completely comfortable sitting alone for an hour or however long it takes my phone to charge. But of course, most people do not understand said comfort, and feel compelled to keep me company and try to cajole me into joining/rejoining the group. That night, the role belonged to a super-nice friend of Jennifer's named Mike. Most of the time, people's discomfort with my comfort being alone in public will quickly devolve from my polite but firm insistence that I'm fine to my cold, irritated, sarcastic and misanthropic vibes that successfully fend off even the clingiest moron. But tonight, maybe it's my mood, some mellowing-with-age, and/or the fact that Mike is just so truly nice and not trying to be an asshole that I initially reiterate for the 10th time that I'm good alone, and no, dancing and loud bars hold no appeal, to just saying sure dude, as you say, I can really only confirm it's as unappealing as I think by going over with him to meet up with everyone else, and besides, we've only around 3 hours before the trains are up and running again. So I collect my not-nearly-sufficiently-charged-for-my-reading-purposes phone, and head over to my first Korean gay bar.

The precious little dancing that is happening is solely being done by the group of girls & 2 guys who'd gone ahead. I have to admit I find it a bit sad that no gay guys, few that are there, are dancing. At this bar, I switch from swearing up & down that I'm totally good not dancing constantly, until thank GOD an older gay man comes & sits next to me & we start talking. He gets up & goes to talk to guys for a while then comes back to talk to me, which is great because it means I have a good excuse to sit, & then don't have to keep working so hard to only half-hear what Ilan, my new friend, is saying.

This goes on for a rather slow 2 hours. Finally, after several false starts of saying I'm leaving only to be convinced to wait a LITTLE longer, since you know those damned trains still aren't running, I end up talking to a few other guys assembled outside to smoke, & gladly take my leave.

But naturally, the trains still aren't QUITE running yet, so I sit down on the raised vent for the trains to wait for them. I have far more fun sitting here and having brief, amusing conversations with passersby, including a couple who want to know what to do, and some Middle Eastern guy who thinks I'm pretty and stops to talk, only to realize that this conversation, nor I, are going anywhere. Around this time, Jennifer & her friends pass me, and ask me to join them for early breakfast at the Taco Bell around the corner. I decline. I think it's around 2 minutes after they leave that some Irish guy asks me to go drinking with him. When I agree, he's surprised, & keeps asking me if I'm sure I'm not Irish. I explain it's going to be difficult, since it's just after 5 and everything is closing. Sure enough, every bar we find won't let us in for that reason. I suggest coffee but he is adamantly against this. We wander around, until we run into a rather morose gay guy I'd talked to at the gay bar before leaving. We convince him to join us for some vodka & grapefruit juice, which John Henry is buying. The convenience stores are always open & stocked. We sit outside in Gangnam & drink until we decide we're tired & can be assured the trains are running again.On the train, I laugh when John Henry tells me that I wasn't actually supposed to take him up on his invitation to drink. I was supposed to do what his gran does and say, "God damn it John Henry it's too feckin' early/late for this, shut up and go to sleep!" Sadly, John Henry & I don't keep in touch, but it was still a surprisingly fun end to a waaayyy to long night.

The other night was wine night. They're always on Fridays, so I get there around 10:30 since I work til ten on Fridays. It isn't really worth it for me to leave by the time the last train or bus, since I just got there & there are still a couple stragglers. For once I wasn't tired & we just kept talking til 5. Turns out that the cabs around there pretty much won't be going in my direction, so we decide that I'll just stay over next time, instead of ensuring we all stay up til 5-6 in the morning talking.

*Sight.* So, those were my 2 chances of attempting, but failing, to find a taxi that will take me home. Kids, I've been here about 8 months & still no dice. Let's hope I get it together & try sooner again, and successfully, rather than even later.