Insert Lame Pirate Joke Here

This weekend, we made yet another trek to Seoul. By my count, the 43rd this month. This one was for a sad occasion: our friend (and noraebang master) Lydia's departure. For reasons that remain unclear, this was a pirate-themed party. Kate, Alex, and I had stocked up on pirate gear at the costume shop, with Kate creatively opting for a parrot costume.

Before meeting up with that gang though, I headed with Jacob, Lon, and Lisa, for . . . well, that's a surprise. But afterward, we went to the Seoul branch of Gecko's, the Western Bar that had provided us with the majority of our sustenance on Jeju Island. After that we did what you do in Itaewon when you're a foreigner: bought books at What The Book? I swear I'm putting the owner's kids through college. Last week I dropped 26,000 won on Under the Loving Care of the Fatherly Leader: North Korea and the Kim Dynasty. This week, I parted with another 30,000 won for 2666. Oh well. Between the two books I've got 1,600 pages to read, which will help me pass the time during the cold Korean winter.

After buying a cigar from . . . uh . . . the Dominican Republic, I met up with the future pirate gang while Lon, Lisa, and Jacob headed to the National Museum. We dined at a fancy French restaurant, enjoying cheese and tapenade and other Gallic delicacies. I drink a piss-poor gin martini. The girls decided to head to Boondong to meet Lydia, while the boys were lazy and returned to Gecko's. There, a table of Korean ladies eyed us and eventually asked James N. for his number. Apparently texting the people at the table next to yours is the new thing in flirting.

We then received the call to head to the Grand Ole Opry, a country bar, and get into pirate garb. I rolled up my pants, revealing an awesome pair of striped socks. I shifted my belt to the outside of my shirt, donned a jaunty cap, and, cutlass in hand, proceeded to terrorize the bar. At this point, my friend Josh was able to burst free from the bonds of holy matrimony and join us.

We went upstairs to partake in beer pong. Yes, I know it's juvenile, but the first game of beer pong I ever played was in Korea at age 25 so I have some catching up to do. Josh and I dominated Melissa and Alex (no thanks to Josh); my hope is that I did not contract hepatitis from the balls that hit the bar floor and then went into my beer cup. At this point I started to notice that the people we encountered on the street and in the bars seemed curiously unfazed by our pirate get-up. I suppose compared to the 40-year-old Russian prostitute dressed like Lady Gaga at Gecko's we weren't that much of an attraction.

After one more sports bar (which wasn't showing sports - a sad fact due to the epic Bolton-Manchester City game that was going on at the time) we went our separate ways. Several people headed home. Alex and I were apparently temporarily insane, as we once again decided it was a good idea to hit the casino to kill time and catch the first KTX, despite regretting doing this every single time. Luckily (?), we never made it to the casino, instead ending up at the Canadian bar, where Melissa stared down a drunk Canuck twice her size. After grabbing some McDonald's breakfast, we headed home, once again cursing our idiocy when we awoke in Daejeon at 7 AM.