Eunuch

 

(I will never have sex again.)

On Friday night, I took Rice-Boy Larry to the chicken house. We had a platter of fried bird, and I drank a pitcher of draft beer while munching on the vittles. To be honest, I’m sick and tired of chicken. But the restaurant is close to our house, and I can’t be bothered taking a taxi to another destination.

I noticed a guy sitting by himself who looked to be around my age. He was drinking soju like it was going out of style. We made eye contact, and he smiled. Then he brought a bowl of cherry tomatoes to my table. Being a polite motherfucker, I naturally thanked him profusely.

Larry said, “I fucking hate tomatoes.”

I nodded in agreement. “I fucking hate tomatoes, too. Yet what can we do? If we don’t eat the freaking things, it will come across as rude.”

Long story short, we shoved them in our mouth as quickly as possible and grinned like a couple of morons as we swallowed the foul-tasting vegetables. After that, I returned the bowl and bowed. If you live in South Korea, you have to bow quite a bit. It’s the culture.

He said, “Guess my job.”

I shrugged. “Are you a businessman?”

He shook his head. “No, I not own da business.”

“Maybe you teach at a high school?”

“I not da teachah.”

I sighed heavily. “Well, I’m completely stumped.”

“I da civil engineah.”

“Wow. Civil engineer. That’s great.”

“I have two son. Dey riv with dere mothah. She in da army. We divorce fourteen year ago.”

I took a swallow of beer. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He dismissed my words with a wave of his hands. “Not solly. I happy. Vely happy. Now I dwink soju evely night. But tomollow, I go work. So today I onry dwink two bottle.”

“Two bottles. That’s a lot.”

“It not much. Usuarry, I dwink four.”

Then he started talking to Larry in the Korean language. I used this time to sneak out of the restaurant to grab a smoke behind the building. I always hide while indulging in my nicotine habit. I don’t want my students to know that their teacher is a filthy scumbag.

When I returned to my seat, I struck up a conversation with my boy. “So what was the geezer saying?”

“His wife is a bigshot in the Korean military, and his boys are a couple of amateur boxing champions.”

“That’s wonderful. I used to love boxing back when I was a kid.”

A look of surprise passed over Rice-Boy’s face. “You boxed in your youth?”

“Hell no. Do I look stupid? I’m talking about watching it on TV.”

Back in the day, I was a huge fan of guys like Marvin Hagler and John “The Beast” Mugabi. But I gave up on the sport because it’s very corrupt. Lots of the decisions seemed completely rigged. Now I’m more of a UFC guy.

We got home at 9 p.m., and I succumbed to my temptation. I walked to my bedroom and viewed a couple hours of pornography. I will never have sex again for the rest of my life. Why? The last thing I ever want to do is meet another woman after twenty-five years of a hellish marriage. And who can blame me? I enjoy peace too much to endure another bad relationship. So porn is all I have.

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