Shameless Shenanigan #1: Yogi-Bearing

A couple days ago, on Saturday September 27, I committed one of the most shameless acts I’ve ever consciously and willingly done. It was the biggest DGAFs I was convinced into doing, as well as convincing another into doing. I’m not proud of myself, but I’m surprisingly not embarrassed as much as I should be.

It all started the midnight after the language cafe outing when Yunik, the Korean guy I met through Megan, asked if anyone was “free tomorrow at 10 or 11a.m. to hangout with some friends.” Distracted by his pretty face, I think: Schweet, there’s no homework, paper, or anything I have to do and there are no set plans for Saturday. Let’s meet some Koreans to friendship-trap. So if you didn’t pay attention like me, he’d said: SOME FRIENDS. Not “my” friends, not “Korean” friends, and not even “some Korean friends.” It was “SOME FRIENDS.”

So what do I do Saturday morning at 10? I convince an unsuspecting Alison to join me. It’ll be fun I said. There will be Koreans to meet I said. It would be with HIS FRIENDS I said. We waited with Yunik for about an hour at the Han River, since SOME FRIENDS were going to meet at 5p.m. for a potluck picnic along the river. He says weomgosh have nothing for the potluck. NOTHING FOR THE POTLUCK. So we buy ~4,000 W worth of water from the convenience store. TWO OTHERS HAD BROUGHT WATER AS WELL. We see some random group crowded around the exit of the subway station, which is where SOME FRIENDS were supposed to meet. By now Alison finally gets my attention and shows me from her phone the “meet-up” group details: “Science Fiction and Fantasy Hangout at the Han River.” SCIENCE FICTION WHAT? FANTASY FOR WHO NOW? NOT YUNIK’S KOREAN FRIENDS EXCUSE ME?!?!

The deed had been done. We had already approached and introduced ourselves to these mid-20’s, older-30 year old group of foreigners. YES FOREIGNERS! NONE WERE KOREAN NONE!!! Why we approached the group of OLDER white people without questioning Yunik, I’m still trying to figure it out myself. CLEARLY they were white. And CLEARLY they were NOWHERE NEAR OUR AGE.

The feast I was helping them set out.. for us to eat.

The feast we were helping them set out.. FOR US.

So by now I should’ve stopped right there, excused Alison and myself, and took off with my morals and pride right? NOPE! I did what any cheap, hungry, and completely shameless human did: blend into the group, pretend like I knew what in the world was going on, help set up and pass around the plates, utensils, and food, and speak ONLY when I found the PERFECT timing to throw in my limited nerd-knowledge to make it seem like I belonged or to take away from my true intentions in deceiving these poor souls. Shamelessly I indulged in fried chicken, homemade pasta, homemade fried mandu, and the multitudes of dessert that they had bought with their adult salary. Shamlessly I had them open the bottle of wine for me to “taste test.” And EXTREMELY shamelessly I pretended not to know what a certain cake box contained so that I could “sample” it. And they fed me EVERYTHING without a thought of what we were actually doing. Maybe it was because I looked Korean that they accepted me, or maybe it was my interest in Harry Potter, knowledge of Lord of the Rings, the Hobbit, Batman socks, and love of Game of Thrones that I won over these randos. I’ll never know why they never questioned our presence.

As the night fell, our stomachs were enlarged and we were ready to peace out. We stood up, simply got the group head’s attention, and shortly announced, “So we’re going to go biking now.” And left. That’s right. We ate. Ate. Ate some more. AND LEFT. Like the wind. We had Yogi-beared a friendly group of lonely foreigners in Seoul. We had our fill of homemade and delicious dinner and left faster than the Road Runner. Dora could not stop Swiper this time round, and the Forest Ranger was WAY too late to realize what Yogi Bear and Boo Boo had done.

joey-not-even-sorryWho those people were, I’ll never know. What their names, jobs, livelihoods, and personal information they shared with me, I’ll never remember. And will I ever Yogi-Bear a group of unsuspecting “FRIENDS” again? WELL I KIND OF JUST DID THAT SAME SATURDAY NIGHT WHILST TELLING THIS STORY TO A GROUP OF FRIENDS IN THE DORM LOUNGE FOR A KRISPY KREME DONUT.


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