Dear Reader- go to parts 1-3 of Love American VS Korean Style, so as to be up to snuff before reading this latest installment of JihadGene's love of his life.
Where were we? Oh yeah...met future wife in Army snack bar sitting with friends. Made best friend out of friends to get at future wife (KIM). By hook and crook tried to get to first base with Kim. Progress very slow. Set up mutual friend's birthday party in order to get to be with Kim. Birthday guy get's drunk, pukes on Kim. Kim leaves party early. JihadGene feeling very low. So...without further ado, let's join in with our friends and all lovers of love and especially THE KOREAN GRANDMOTHERS.
Well... when New Best Friend and his Wife saw how miserable I was about KIM being puked on and having to leave early, she began to talking/telling the other ladies there just how touching it was to see what a big miserable Son of a Bitch I was, since Kim had caught a taxi and left the barfday party. The Korean Grannies began cackling as if they were a bunch of illegal aliens (registered Democrats) working in a meat packing plant when the US Border Patrol bus arrives. My outward misery had struck a nerve! I didn't realize what was going on...I was just miserable...flat broke...and "my" KIM (I wished she was mine) probably hates my guts. Soon I gotta RTB (return to base) before curfew. Now all the Korean GrandMa's are looking at me with kind faces and talking, seeing what a big miserable son-of-a-bitch I truthfully now am, since KIM had left the party. Six months of Army pay couldn't have bought me such "YOU GOOD G.I." bonus points! Next thing I know, one elderly lady is smiling at me and patting my shoulder, telling me it's OK. Maybe the only English she knows is OK, I don't know... but I speak to her in Korean addressing her by her proper title and thanking her. Her face lights up. The Korean lessons I learned from the KATUSA's (Korean Soldiers) I worked with, was paying off. Though I hadn't immediately realized it, I had struck gold! Now back to my lovely Kim...she had no phone in her tiny apartment, a rented room really, and took a taxi there to clean up, and call it a night. She later told me she still found me cute, even then. To this day I don't know if she is feeding me BS or is telling me true. Whatever...back to the puke party... The Korean grandma's, all 11 of them, told me to hop in the taxi with them. It seems they have launched their very own "Campaign of Luv". Now I don't know how many of us actually got in and were packed into that tiny four doored Hyundai taxi cab, with the 4 speed stickshift, powered by any number of cylinders (pick a number 1 thru 3) driven by a skinny chain-smoking Korean middle aged man, but if Guinness would have been there it would'a been a record. I didn't know about KOREAN NASCAR fans until I met these grandma's. They all started yelling at the poor taxi driver like he was a SARAH PALIN SUPPORTER at the taping of an OPRAH SHOW. They yelled for the driver ( in loosley translated Korean, by me) to get this one cylindered piece of crap to moving faster or they'd make sure he would spend the rest of his miserable days up in NORTH KOREA as a freakin' EUNIC!
Our speed greatly and mysteriously increased almost immediately. Holy shit! Did he just burn rubber going from 3rd into 4th gear?! No fooking way! One old toothless grandma just smiled at me with an all knowing smile. I think she was a Korean Shaman. WTF have I gotten myself into I wondered? Erstwhile, a hefty Korean gandma is sitting on my lap crushing my balls through the floor board of the little Hyundai. Sooo...we began to skid sideways and all the old fears of riding with my drunk Uncle Bob at the wheel of his 1965 black 2 door Chevy Corvair Monza Spider around the winding roads of Lake Berryessa return. I don't know if I shit my pants or if it is the smell of the old korean GrandMa's...I'm scared
I tell ya! And I mean REALLY SCARED!!!(To Be Continued)