KMK: Ladies Night Duck, Roll, & Cover

You all know about Lady’s Night in Itaewon right? Well, if not, let me tell you that every Thursday night the ladies in Seoul all converge on the bars to get their free drink on. Now the ladies know that the free drinks flow to get them their as bait for the fellas who in turn can expect anything from the ubiquitous hand in the face to an in flagrante delicto tryst in a bathroom stall. In Itaewon, the freaks come out at night to literally get their freak on apparently at any time and place. Those places, for expats, usually end up being Geckos, Wolfhound, Brixx, Helios, B1, or the Loft.

So now that you’re all caught up on the ins and outs of Ladies Night in Itaewon let me tell you about the mess that went down last night. A night that started off beautifully, arriving at Brixx with my friend, whom we shall call Stanford, to meet my friends Sheena and Angel. We come in, spot my friends on one of the sofas, greet them, and them head for the bar to get some drinks. While ordering a long island ice tea a waiter runs up to Stanford screaming for him to get out of the bar and waving a security cam print out picture of him and our mutual friend Zandar.

Said picture had been taken weeks ago when we were at Brixx at a goodbye party for one of our managers at work. After I left, around 4 A.M., the story goes that everyone else began to head over to a nearby Noribong. One of the waiters had been chatting with Zandar while unknowingly being stalked by her crazy boyfriend who became insanely crazy boyfriend jealous. When Zandar and Stanford left Brixx to catch up with everyone else they were jumped by said boyfriend and his crew. Now crazy boyfriend maybe have been crazy but decidedly not stupid because instead of attacking Zandar, who is a sweet as can be but nevertheless big, tall, corn-fed Kansas motherfucka’, he instead pounced on itty bitty Stanford who could blow away if somebody in the room sneezed. Zandar fended them off and so you would’ve thought: end of story, right? Nope.

This brings us back to last night and the manic waiter waving around the picture. He turned out to be the aforementioned waitress’s brother who supposedly heard from his sister that Stanford had followed her into the girl’s bathroom and touched her rear. First of all Stanford is a skinny little slip of a thing with the disposition of a Disney Character. Just the thought that he would do such a thing is so laughable and improbable that I just stared at the waiter with a look of shock and awe. Second, the girl’s bathroom locks from the inside so why would she let someone in there with her? Third, Stanford is as gay as a project runway contestant. None of that deterred the waiter especially when we proceeded to sit down after he told Stanford to leave the building.

So, Stanford tells the waiter to call the police ‘because he’s not going. When the police are involved in Korea I tend to think it’s never going to go good for the foreigner involved unless he or she is the offspring of some big shot. At this point Angel tries to work her diplomatic skills but even her awesome efforts combine with her half-Korean flavor couldn’t save the day. The police showed up and we all figured it was going downhill from there. The officers did seem sympathetic and Angel did manage to get one of our managers from work to talk to them on the phone. She had been there that night in question and her chat in Korean with the police must have worked wonders since nobody ended up behind bars. We cut our losses and figured that the night could only go uphill from there. Nope.

So after we bounced from Brixx and enjoyed a quick bite we moseyed on over to the Loft. Usually I don’t care for the Loft, but we ran into other friends, the music was good and the vibe was right. I even met a couple of readers of Kiss My Kimchi who recognized me from photos. Even though I get a couple comments now and then I never really think about real life people reading the blog so that was coolness. Shout out to the Iowan gals in the house! Though, sadly, the afterglow of that love fest died fast when Angel and I decided to pop out just for a wee minute to check out the clubs on the hill. On the way back we spotted one of the Italian muscle dudes who had been dancing in the Loft running for his life in the street being chased down by the Loft’s security guard and then a pissed of Nigerian, and then a whole pack of pissed off Nigerians. Police sirens wailed in the night. We get to the stairwell of the Loft and there’s nothing but blood; on the stairs, on the walls, on the handrail.

Inside the actual bar we discovered we had just missed an all out bar room brawl complete with broken beer bottles, busted lips, and probably some missing teeth. After that we assumed the great gods of binge drinking were trying to tell us something so we called it a night. Next time you hit up ladies night be sure to bring your boxing gloves to protect yourself and a camcorder to record every moment you’re out and about.