No Beef for Me

 

(I'm too poor to afford steak.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a shit. Almost five percent of Koreans aged 19-38 are now considered shut ins. In other words, they live with their parents, spend most of their time locked away in their rooms, and refuse to look for gainful employment. I’m aghast with disbelief and horror. That’s a huge number of people suffering from acute mental illness. I had no idea that so many Koreans are completely fucked in the head. It frightens me.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I watched Fox News. A couple of teens from Chicago stole a car and took it for a high-speed joyride. Unfortunately, they crashed into another vehicle and killed a six-month-old infant who was in the backseat. In the good old days, this would be considered first-degree murder because the death occurred while the culprits were in the act of committing a felony. But that logic is now dust in the wind. Instead, these assholes were charged with a misdemeanor. My opinion? The district attorney needs to be horsewhipped.

I talked to my mother using Facebook Messenger.

She said, “Nurse Ken is out by the pool studying for his HESI Exam.”

I said, “Is he real nervous?”

“I don’t think so. He says that if he does well, he’s going to visit you guys in Korea this summer.”

“I just hope that the army doesn’t force him to serve. We still get the occasional letter.”

Ken is a dual citizen. He’s both Korean and American. In the old days, he would have been allowed to give up his citizenship for an F-4 visa. It’s given to foreigners who possess the magic Korean blood. But too many people were gaming the system to avoid mandatory military service. With that said, I’m not too afraid. The last thing the government wants is an influx of white people wearing a uniform. It would make their heads spin. Race is a big thing here on the peninsula. It’s pretty much a homogenous society, and they want to keep it that way.

I said, “Don’t tell Ken about the letters. He might decide to stay in Texas.”

“I won’t. But don’t let him walk into a trap. If he’s forced into the army, he might never forgive you.”

“I’ll look into it. The last thing I want to do is fuck up his life.”

Later in the afternoon, I strolled to McDonald’s for lunch and met one of my friends. It’s great to live in a city like Seoul. Everything is within walking distance. Sometimes, I wonder why I even drive a car. Taking the bus is actually less stressful.

He said, “How are things at work?”

I shrugged. “I guess they’re going OK.”

“Anything new happening?”

“Not that I’m aware of. But I don’t really talk to anybody except for the kids.”

He smirked at me. “Are you a recluse or something?”

“It’s not that. I think it has something to do with my age. I’m an old geezer, so people tend to ignore me.”

“You aren’t that old. You’re only in your 50s.”

“Who are you kidding? In five years, I’ll be 60. That’s o-l-d, old.”

“Time flies, huh?”

“It sure does.”

I got home at 6 p.m. and ate dinner. The Dragon Lady served chicken with hot biscuits. The meal was good. I consumed every morsel, and I even licked the plate with my fat pink tongue. I eat a lot of poultry. I’m too freaking poor to afford beef.

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