The Steed
My poor heart. Pumping blood at a pressure I'm not sure my arteries are strong enough to hold. Minutes ago I got off the phone with Dae young, the man who saved me from certain arterial explosions or at the very least an angry train ride to Busan to extract vengeance.
It was completely my fault in the begining, though not in the end: in the end the fault lay entirely in their lap; they messed up. Normally, I think everyone except a few people are out to do me harm, either maliciously or inadvertantly, but for some reason I thought it would go smoothly. Never nervous, just excited about getting my new motorcycle.
In Busan maybe four days ago, I bought a motorcycle--a beautiful motorcyle. It's a blue Honda Steed 400 from 1997. My original idea was to ride it back home, maybe 3 to 4 hours in the cold. Laziness, weakness, or wisdom got the better of me, and I decided to send it back to Gumi by truck rather than suffer in the cold--not as cold as the past few days, it would've been fun in hindsight. They offered to send my helmet with the bike, and since I was sick of carrying it around and not going to need it until I got the bike, I thought it was a great idea. At first. He said it a second time--the bike, the key and the helmet. On Tuesday. Somewhere between 6 and 8pm. I was quite hesitant as I gave him my helmet, the helmet I spent hours in Daegu trying to find, trying on nearly every helmet in two or three shops until I got it. But that initial moment of hesitation was all I got. Afterwards, over New Year's, the beach, the aquarium, back to Joe's place way out in the boondocks--no worrying, no doubt, just the sweet anticipation of my big Christmas present to myself being delivered by an unlikely Santa Claus.
Dude was not one of the guys from the shop like they said would be coming. We had to ask a passerby to help us lift the heavy bike down from the flatbed, because he had no boards or other method of unloading it. I'm surprised nothing was broken in the process. He gave me the papers, the key and made to go. "What about the helmet?" "There is no helmet," he says. "But the helmet." I was not at home, rather, I was at the hagwon and had to ride home. A short way, but I still like to protect the ridiculous investment I made when I went to private college in the US. "Here, call the shop," he tells me. Easy enough. The guy who picks says there is no helmet, and to not call back until someone who speaks better Korean than I do can help. I ride home, without incident and little things are getting to me. The pipes get too hot; I made the wrong choice in bikes, maybe it's going to overheat real easy. Weren't there mirrors on the bike? So furious about the helmet, I notice this only when I try to look in one and see the tail light of a guy in front of me. There is new concrete on my regular way home--not on my new bike.
I've been trying to call Daeyoung for days, just a casual call to wish him happy holidays, and today I finally get a hold of him. Sucks that it coincides with a favor I gotta ask. He calls, calls me back. Calls again and finally it's left at them sending the helmet to him when the guy who recognizes gets back to the shop. Turns out they thought I was asking for a helmet too, after I talked them down 200,000W for the bike, and were politely telling me to eat it. On my side I was ready to spend the 30,000 going there and back to give them a piece of my mind in broken Korean, and demand my helmet back.
So I should get it back later this week.
It was completely my fault in the begining, though not in the end: in the end the fault lay entirely in their lap; they messed up. Normally, I think everyone except a few people are out to do me harm, either maliciously or inadvertantly, but for some reason I thought it would go smoothly. Never nervous, just excited about getting my new motorcycle.
In Busan maybe four days ago, I bought a motorcycle--a beautiful motorcyle. It's a blue Honda Steed 400 from 1997. My original idea was to ride it back home, maybe 3 to 4 hours in the cold. Laziness, weakness, or wisdom got the better of me, and I decided to send it back to Gumi by truck rather than suffer in the cold--not as cold as the past few days, it would've been fun in hindsight. They offered to send my helmet with the bike, and since I was sick of carrying it around and not going to need it until I got the bike, I thought it was a great idea. At first. He said it a second time--the bike, the key and the helmet. On Tuesday. Somewhere between 6 and 8pm. I was quite hesitant as I gave him my helmet, the helmet I spent hours in Daegu trying to find, trying on nearly every helmet in two or three shops until I got it. But that initial moment of hesitation was all I got. Afterwards, over New Year's, the beach, the aquarium, back to Joe's place way out in the boondocks--no worrying, no doubt, just the sweet anticipation of my big Christmas present to myself being delivered by an unlikely Santa Claus.
Dude was not one of the guys from the shop like they said would be coming. We had to ask a passerby to help us lift the heavy bike down from the flatbed, because he had no boards or other method of unloading it. I'm surprised nothing was broken in the process. He gave me the papers, the key and made to go. "What about the helmet?" "There is no helmet," he says. "But the helmet." I was not at home, rather, I was at the hagwon and had to ride home. A short way, but I still like to protect the ridiculous investment I made when I went to private college in the US. "Here, call the shop," he tells me. Easy enough. The guy who picks says there is no helmet, and to not call back until someone who speaks better Korean than I do can help. I ride home, without incident and little things are getting to me. The pipes get too hot; I made the wrong choice in bikes, maybe it's going to overheat real easy. Weren't there mirrors on the bike? So furious about the helmet, I notice this only when I try to look in one and see the tail light of a guy in front of me. There is new concrete on my regular way home--not on my new bike.
I've been trying to call Daeyoung for days, just a casual call to wish him happy holidays, and today I finally get a hold of him. Sucks that it coincides with a favor I gotta ask. He calls, calls me back. Calls again and finally it's left at them sending the helmet to him when the guy who recognizes gets back to the shop. Turns out they thought I was asking for a helmet too, after I talked them down 200,000W for the bike, and were politely telling me to eat it. On my side I was ready to spend the 30,000 going there and back to give them a piece of my mind in broken Korean, and demand my helmet back.
So I should get it back later this week.
posted by The Principal at 7:06 PM
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