Woof.

I am pretty used to being approached by Koreans. Many just want a chance to practice English, and I am more than happy to visit with them. Old peoples’ faces wrinkle up in toothless smiles while they point at my eyes, pat my face, and speak in Korean. Spiky-headed, spectacled teenagers yell “Hi! How are you!” then put their heads down and run away laughing if you answer. These are the delightful encounters. Then, there are the other kind of encounters: Lonely, aggressive men that chat casually for a few minutes, and then get fresh. And thus begins today’s story.

I was at the movies. We sat next to each other in silence for a few minutes. After a quavering and unsure, “Hi,” he started talking. People tend to ask personal, probing questions like, “How old are you?” He immediately got off on the wrong foot by guessing that I was 31. Further, this man apparently did not feel confined by social niceties, and he soon passed right over appropriate and became gauche as he asked not only if I had a boyfriend, but WHY I did not have one. In an instant, the answer became blindingly clear: the only people who show an interest in me are lonely, measly, middle-aged men who smell like cabbage and mothballs; and that simply will not do.

He offered me some of his odorous, dried, sea creature snack, which I handily refused. As the halting conversation progressed, he started getting weirder.
He leans over and says, “You and me, we friends? Yes? Now we friends?”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. Friends? I mean, that’s quite a thing to say.”
Undeterred, he asks for my phone number. (I have discovered the hard way that subtlety does not translate.) I told him I didn’t know my number....which I didn’t, forgetting that moments earlier, I pulled my phone out to turn it off, which he saw. He keeps asking if I have a phone and I keep trying to tell him I don’t know my number, and he thinks I’m saying that I don’t have a phone.

He is obviously put-off, and he makes a little scoffing sound and says a little loudly, “Hey. I’m good guy. I’m good guy!” I am becoming red and very discomfited. The guy is getting increasingly agitated, and to satisfy him, I tell him I have an email address, which seems to quell his peevishness. Thankfully, he doesn’t ask for my address.
He asks if I am thirsty and stands up to buy me a drink. I frantically insist and motion that I don’t want anything. He says, “Okay then. We friends. We email friends, yes?” Without my answer, the movie, blessedly, starts.

He only tried to talk to me a few times during the movie, as he munched on his smelly squid tentacles. About halfway through, he thoughtfully sprayed himself with cologne very near my face, which was like breathing liquid detergent.

Anyway, he left the movie early, but came crawling back, literally crawling, through the theater to whisper in my ear and give me a piece of paper with a little note and his email.

It would be funny if it wasn’t so embarrassing and a little creepy.