Koreans
are incredibly cute.
The
blokes and the girls.
It has
been a while since I have been here in Seoul and I kind of forgot how nice the
people are.
And
cute.
I like
the way that the Koreans replace their “l’s” with “R’s” when they speak English
– and vice versa.
“Hurro”
“I am velly solly”
It is
brilliant.
Chill
out Mum.
Relax.
That
is not being the slightest bit racist at all.
It’s
not.
I like
the fact that the South Koreans northern nemesis is a little fatty madman who looks
like a telly tubby or a character from a bad James Bond movie. Kim what’s his
face – spawned by his father Kim the other what’s his face.
I know
I shouldn’t think they are funny as the North Koreans allegedly live in a
horrible regime under a ruthless dictator who is nuts.
But I
just do.
Think
he is funny.
Seoul
is a happening city.
It
rocks.
It is
hip and suave and it has class and style.
Seoul’s
got soul.
I am
staying where I normally do – at the Grand Hyatt.
The
one up on the hill surrounded by gardens.
It is
cold.
Bloody
cold.
My
cute little work colleague NJ Kim – who is no relation to the telly tubby - has
sorted me out with a suite with a river view.
I
arrived after dark so I can’t actually see the river but I will in the morning.
I was
greeted by an entourage at the hotel – all of them cute.
The
flight from Tokyo is only a couple of hours and I flew Korean Air - on board a
meticulously clean and new big AS380 plane.
I’m
not sure why but I was upgraded from Business Class to a suite but I was.
I have
never been in a suite before and it is like having your own little room.
Cute
little Korean Airline stewardesses besieged me with food and smiles the whole
way.
It was
a bit too much really.
I just
wanted to lay back and read my book but they kept poking their heads in to see
if I needed anything or to offer me tidbits of food.
Things
I didn’t actually want really.
Tidbits
of food or their attention - but I didn’t want to appear rude.
But I
smiled gracefully and declined everything with great politeness.
They
had upgraded me after all.
As a
suite person I was ushered quickly through the priority lane of immigration and
customs and straight into the waiting black Series 7 BMW hotel car.
They
are always black these hotel limousines.
I
don’t know why.
Koreans
– like Americans – drive on the wrong side of the road – which is the right
side – if you know what I mean.
I
always find it disconcerting.
We
hurtled along the highway and within an hour I was here.
At the
Grand Hyatt,
Yes
the one on the hill.
I
stayed in the Grand Hyatt in Tokyo as well so it has been a grand week thus far
for me.
As is
usual after any plane ride I felt a bit restless and in need of caffeine so I
meandered my way to the classy bar upstairs and I ordered myself a double shot
vanilla latte. I know it will fuck up my sleep but I have a powerful pill I
will take to over ride it.
I
don’t sleep well at the best of times and worse still in hotel beds.
Blessed
be the powerful pill.
I am
sure the Grand Hyatt chain would never admit it - however very high-class
hookers frequent their bars all around the world.
Chill
out again Mum.
Don’t
be shocked.
It is
what it is.
It is
no different here and the Korean hookers at the Grand Hyatt are both cute and
gorgeous.
They
are incredibly expensive too.
Once
again Mum – relax.
Calm
down.
I know
these things because I have chatted to said hookers before.
They
have quoted me their prices.
I have
not however tasted their forbidden fruit.
I know
you wouldn’t like it and I couldn’t afford it anyway.
So I
was sipping on my latte admiring some immaculately dressed and stunningly
beautiful ladies of the night when I inadvertently made eye contact with one of
them. There was instantaneous recognition by both of us and in a micro-second
and but a glance, a transaction was proposed – and denied.
I did
so with a smile and a shrug of my shoulders - that was returned with a smile
and a fake look of despondency.
It was
extremely cute.
In a
blink the despondent one came over though and she gave me a “hurro”
I
returned it with a “hurro”
Her
skin and teeth were pearly white and her every being was exquisite.
She
was divine.
The
goddess hooker offered her slender hand and told me that her name was Belle.
I
shook her hand and told her my name was Peter.
I told
her this because my name is Peter.
“Buy me a drink?” she enquired.
This
is a classic opening hooker line Mum.
In case you didn't know.
I
nodded to my half drunk latte and informed her that I was a non-drinker but I
would gladly buy her a coffee.
She
shrugged in a manner that I couldn’t really interpret but it was cute.
It was
very cute.
I
thought I would cut straight to the chase and let her know I was not hanging
around – nor would I be partaking of her services.
“I am gay Belle,” I informed her.
“Really Peter?” she replied.
“No not really – not that there is
anything wrong with that”
I politically correct returned.
“However I am unable and unwilling to
take up your offering,” I
added.
“My offelling?” she adorably queried.
A
gorgeous woman who’s every uttering is a question is difficult to combat.
“Yes your offering Belle”
She
shrugged again.
We
chatted for a while about mundane things whilst I sipped on my coffee and as I
called for the bill – which the Koreans – like the Americans – call the check,
Belle once again asked me if I would like to buy her a drink.
“We
could take it in your loom” she suggested.
“My
loom Belle?”
“Yes
your loom?”
I laughed
as I shook my head no Mum. Then I once again shook her hand and bid her
goodnight.
Then I
came down to my room and I took my powerful pill while I wrote this.
I can
feel it taking effect.
I have
a big day of work tomorrow.
So now
to sleep.
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