No shit: this actually happened

Because my 5 readers are chomping at the bit for more updates (and of course, this is theoretical), I'm going to tell you what may turn out to be the "best possible thing to happen to me that could eventually lead to a blog post about my first 24 hours in a foreign country." Catchy, right?

So, two of the teachers at SLI (one was a former teacher) decided to take me out to a traditional Korean night on the town my first jet-lagged night in Korea. What I came to understand that to mean was gorging myself on sam gyop sal (three layers of pig fat, basically the most delicious bacon you'll ever eat) and getting absolutely trashed on soju and mekju (beer, but not exactly the porters and stouts I regularly choose). Korea is not a classy way to get tipsy, its the gearhead's pregnant girlfriend doing so much coke that she's bleeding out of her ears type nasty drunk. But we've all been there. I digress.

Just before our meal, we come upon a large group of people beginning to form in the middle of the square in Sunae. Wondering what all the grumbling and mumbling was about, we decided to join the drunken mob and investigate. What we found there was a 5'7" dude in a sparring helmet and boxing gloves and his overactive trainer motioning at people in the crowd. I turned to ask Mike, "What the hell is going on?" He responded, "This guy is a karate pro and is trying to spar with random people to train for an upcoming event." I of course immediately realized the gravity of the situation: on my first night in an Asian country, you are actually fucking telling me that a scene from the movie Bloodsport is going to play out literally 150 feet away from my apartment?

Awesome.

What actually happened may have been even better. The mixed martial artist wrapped his arms behind his back to show that he wasn't going to throw any punches. He was practicing dodging using nothing but his guile and the keen sense of random necessary to think its a good idea to do karate in the middle of a 400,000 person city on a Friday night. The trainer convinced one eager-to-impress-his-hot-girlfriend teenager to fight, who then proceeded to look like a complete ass. Punch after punch, the 17 year old couldn't seem to connect with semi-toothed martial artist. Eventually, the boy got tired of throwing punches and missed so wildly that the professional reached back and slapped him across the face with his fat hand. It was absolutely hilarious and probably one of the best unplanned experiences of my life (though mom walking in on my "private time" takes a distant 576th, sorry Mom.)