Korean Job Discussion Forums

[Ya-ta Boy]

Memory is a kind of a tricky thing, especially when it leads to nostalgia. A few bottles of soju can fuel it, if you are not careful. I�m not one to be careful. Pet Lover asked an entirely unrelated question that lead me back to a spate of nostalgia, and I�m in the mood, so I thought I�d write about it. You can skip it since it isn�t about you. I don�t care. If you don�t like it, you can complain to Pet Lover.

The first time I met Suzie Creamcheese was when I was 20 and she was 17. I was a junior in college in Colorado and she was in high school. Later I learned that she had blondish hair. Never did notice the color of her eyes. What I (and every other male who ever met her) remember was this: (.) (.)�about ten seconds before the major part of her body followed her into the room. We later became close enough that she told me they were a burden. She was even known to say to guys, �Hey, ass*ole, up here! I do have a face!�

I was living in a kind of commune and she was looking for a place to crash. She came attached to a high school dope dealer who kept his stash in his underwear. I learned to become less squeamish about guys� underwear from this dude. I can tell you that toothpaste tubes are not a good alternative hiding place for your dope. More than one person copped a buzz from brushing their teeth. I�m all for oral hygiene, but take it from me, Econ 101 is not made more comprehensible by swelling walls and rubbery pens.

Anyway, Suzy moved in upstairs and her dealer b/f was an occasional guest. The first really memorable conversation I ever had with her was about her roomie, Nancy the Nympho. Suzie was kind of a beginner in interpersonal relationships and was stunned by Nancy�s less than selective couplings in the next bed. Nancy was a higher-toned lay than the rest of us in the commune and stuck to frat boys. Maybe it was because Nancy was a California girl, I don�t know. I do know that she was a music major, clarinet in particular, and her daddy paid her tuition each term. The instrument getting blown was not made of black plastic and Nancy never ever went to class. She had the frat boys scheduled by the hour and what kind of got to Suzie (and to me) if I am going to be fully honest here, was that she had them trained by the numbers. In those days everyone knew something about the Kama Sutra and Nancy more than most. She�d numbered her preferred positions and trained the frat boys by the numbers. Suzie was shocked that Nancy and Boy 3 Whateverhisnamewas would be going for it in the next bed when Nancy would say, �7��.rustle, rustle, rustle�.�3��and so on. I was such an innocent Iowa small town boy that I had to go in for emergency surgery when I heard that�I needed my eyebrows unstuck from my hairline. Suzy was in no better shape than I was.

Time passed, as it always does, and we all moved out of the commune into other living arrangements. I ended up with a psycho roomie who flushed my contacts. It was the summer when Band on the Run came out. Suzie was into butterscotch sauce on Crispy Critters in between her Salems. She was kind of a nervous sort�I always thought it was because guys didn�t respect her as a person. She�d light up a Salem and then get into a conversation about whatever and forget and light up another one. I�m sure that�s how the armchair caught on fire. Dowsing armchairs at 3 AM doesn�t really put them out, you know. It just makes them smolder. It was the same night the guy in Waiting For Godot came on to Claude, so things are not as clear as they might otherwise be.

Somewhere in there I got married to someone else and we all (wife, me, Suzie, Claude, D and Downstairs John�not to be confused with Transvestite John ) ended up living in a converted chicken coop outside of town. But that didn�t last long. Janis Joplin died and the wife and I quit school because art was dead.

Suzie moved up into the mountains and lived with the nephew of a legendary baseball player, but he wasn�t much good in bed. At some point she lived in a teepee, maybe with the nephew of the legendary baseball player, or maybe with someone else; all I remember is some wild animals ate the hay that was piled around the tent and the experiment in natural living came to an abrupt end.

In the end, she went fishing and met a guy who asked her to go to Alaska for dinner and she went. Ended up married with three beautiful daughters and living in Arkansas.

Life is like that, you know. You set out to do one thing and end up on the other side of a continent doing something entirely different.

PS: There are more than one Suzie Creamcheeses in life. This is just one of them.

[Ya-ta Boy]

Pre-emptive Strike:

To the chronic detractors:

It is not humanly possible for me to care less what you think about my story tonight. You can think whatever you want, but it won't matter. You can say whatever you want. It won't matter. You are still a dweeb, a twit, a dork. You weren't cool in high school and you still are not cool.

Accept it and get on with your life.

[SuperFly]

I read it. Not that wonderful, but you got my attention for two minutes. Are you sure you don't need me to send you a couple of buds?

Let me know if you need a place to crash for a bit if you come back this month. We have an extra bedroom.

[mole]

Wow. I have vivid stories like that. I just lost my glasses and can't see a full
screen of text. That's why my posts are short.
(Yes, I had to read that with an eye closed.)

[kimchikowboy]

It seems the lesson learned is to go fishing. Everything got better after that. As the saying goes, a bad day of fishing beats a great day at work.

http://www.anglerstown.com/