Korean Limo Service

I don't even know where to begin with this one.

Let's start with my state of mind.

Last night I went out drinking with a married
chick who I always used to have serious hots for.

she just got divorced.

We worked together at the Yacht Club,
and she was one of the few perks of working there.

We would chat in her office about nothing,
and about her married life,
and about skittles,
and have a grand old time,

She was always hot,
in that special pretty lady kind of way,
not the high heels kind.

And it was always obvious
that I would jump in her bed
in a minute.

It was never said, of course,
but always known,
and openly discussed between
me and Max, the manager.

so we went out drinking with a few other friends.

And it was painfully obvious to me
that any slight bit of effort on my part
would land me in bed with a horny
ex wife on the rebound.

yikes.
I burnt my fingers typing that one,
it was so hot.

Now I happen to be in a relationship,
and I don't stray, like I used to,
so it was out of the question.

And of course,
whenever you're out of the question,
you become all that more desirable
to the interested party.

yikes.

She was dripping with horny goo,
waiting to get down and slutty
with the first young boy she could pound on.

I couldn't cash in,
so I drank.

and drank.

and did some shots.

and then some kind of rum thing,
and some scotch.

and then some kind of beer,
and then a shot,
and then something with red bull in it.

At least it tasted like red bull when
I was vomiting it all back up in my bathroom at home.

3 am.

vomiting.

4 am.

sleeping.

9 am.

waking up to work
a 13 hour double at my current restaurant.

yikes.

I dragged through the morning meeting,
only to learn that I was serving a party
of 58 Asian people celebrating a baptism party.

Now, call me racist, but I didn't know Asian people
had baptisms, but apparently they do.

in droves.

58 people, 17 kids, 10 kids under 5.

unreal.

noisy, friendly but demanding,
taxing, hungry, spicy, asian babies.

hungover serving Thai Iced Tea
and Garlic chicken noodles all morning long.

Then,
dinner shift.

The NRA is in Chicago this weekend.

Not the Charlton Heston NRA,
the National Restaurant Association.

basically, forty thousand people
come to Chicago to talk about restaurants,
and go out to dinner.

We had 236 reservations,
we normally have 150.

Needless to say, we were incredibly busy,
and I was behind the bar.

Serving angry and impatient couples
as their 15 minute wait turned into 45.

Parties of ten hoochies who wanted Miller Lite...

"I'm sorry, we don't have Miller Lite, try a Sapparo,
you'll love it."

"no... let me have a cranberry and vodka"

"no, you idiot, try a Sapparo, it tastes exactly
the same as your watered down crappy beer,
don't be such a mindless cow and step out
and try some new things every once in a while.
Your tan looks fake and you smell like a department store"

6 more hours to go.

Finally, I'm done.

I have every intention of going straight home
and curling up with a nice bong and a short book.

But.

"hey pete, we're going out to Karaoke,
you wanna come?"

"no. I hate karaoke."

"but... we'll all sing funny songs and laugh and
get wasted"

"that's what I do for a living"

"but.. we've got out own private room
at this weird little Korean place, just
like in Lost in Translation"

"oh, really?"

So, at 12:30, I clocked out and hopped in a car,
all the way to 6800 North California.

You may not live in Chicago,
but I can tell you that 6800 N California
is way the fuck out there away from anything.

We show up at this strange little storefront
with no sign. It's in a Korean stripmall,
how do I know it was Korean?

Because everything was in Korean,
and only Korean.

We walk in, and half the party is already there,
in our private booth, singing Journey.

Holy fucking shit was it awesome.

I can't do it justice with the typed word,
but just try to imagine an old hotel,
a $500 shopping spree to that store
in the mall that sells all the black lights,
lot's of Korean writing, a full bar,
and unmatching wall paper
all over the place.

It was insane.

The Karaoke setup in our room
was on a huge tv screen,
with a remote control and two books full of songs.

Every song I could think of was in there,
you punch the code in the remote, and it
brings it up with music, the words, and incredibly
random images of Korean people vacationing
around the world.

I sang 15 songs.

and I danced through the rest,

we were all flying through drinks and songs,
dancing and playing along on tambourines
that light up when you hit them.

It was the best night of my life.

At about 3:30 am,
it slammed into the worst night in my life.

The song Rio was blaring through cheap
speakers while my dear friends butchered it.

I was somehow simultaneously drunk
and hungover, and my brain was splitting
open from the endless visions of vacationing
Koreans.

I needed a taxi, and fast.

I tried to communicate that to the
young man at the desk, but I think
he thought I was asking for Popcorn Chicken.

It was delicious,
but I still needed a cab.

eventually, at 4 am,
the lady came to our room
and told me my cab was here.

I go out to the front,
where another scared looking
young white girl was standing,
and a slick looking Korean gentleman
was smiling knowingly.

"Korean Limo Service"

"....um.....what?"

"is a Korean Limo Service, you need cab?"

"yes please, just take me home, please"

"you share with her."

"okay, cool, whatever"

We walk out,
the stranger, the slick,
and I.

We walk towards a shiny white
Toyota Camry.

....where could the taxi be?

We get into the Camry.

...this is a weird taxi.

"it's a no taxi, it's a Korean Limo Service."

awesome, drive me....

We pull out of the parking lot,
and he cranks up, and I'm not kidding,
the Mariah Carrey.

Holy shit bags of fire.

Strangely, it was the scared girl in back
who spoke up first.

She too had been trapped in a room with
her friends, listening to them murder songs
and screech through cheap microphones
dripping with reverb.

Mariah Carrey was just too fucking much to handle.

He got the hint, and switched to Celine Dion.

No kidding.

Now, I love Celine Dion,
I'm not afraid to admit it,
and I don't care what you think.

The smile stretched across
my face as I stretched out in
my Korean Limo.

It brought me home safe
and fast for a negotiable
flat rate, and now..

It's time for sleep.

good night......

-p (4:45 am)