Chapter 6

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Yesterday, I woke up at six a.m. and enjoyed a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the paper while taking a nasty shit. A drunk Korean acted badly on an international flight. He slapped a flight attendant right across her face and kicked another man on the knee. A group of angry passengers finally tied him to his seat with nylon cord. Koreans don't get punished harshly for this type of behavior. Drunk people are usually given a pass. If an American citizen acted this way, he'd be buried under the jail. This guy will just get a slap on the wrist.

I drove Rice-Boy Larry to school in my fifteen-year-old Samsung car. It was his last day before the winter break. Korea is different than the west. The new school year starts in March. In fact, he'll enter the fourth grade on March 1st. Larry hates school. And who can blame him? He usually comes home with reams and reams of homework. His teacher even gave him tons of assignments to complete over the vacation. Being a Korean isn't for pussies.

Rice-Boy Larry also feels ambivalent toward his classmates. It might be a racial thing. He's half a white man, so he sticks out in the crowd. All the older children like to hug him and rub his soft brown hair. Consequently, he often sees himself as some type of exotic circus beast.

I said, "Are you happy to get out of school for a while."

He said, "This is Korea. There's no such thing as a holiday."

Truer words have never been spoken.

I talked to Beatrice. Today was her last day. She's flying back to Canada on Friday.

I said, "I've been having lots of digestive problems lately. I've been shitting three times a day. In fact, I've been shitting so much that I've rubbed my asshole raw with toilet paper."

She said, "Do I really need to know this?"

I said, "It just got me to thinking about the homosexuals. It takes a real man to stick various objects up his ass. Some people even put gerbils up there."

She rubbed her chin. "I suppose it would be painful at first. But after the flesh expands, it probably gets easier. Plus they use lots of lube."

I nodded my head. "Good point."

I'm a crazy born-again Christian. But I never attack the fags. Don't get me wrong. I'm still against gay marriage. However, I don't spend sleepless nights worrying about the issue. What's it to me? I've got my own fish to fry.

We walked to the auditorium to hear the principal's farewell message. I can't remember what he said. My boss is an intellectual, and sometimes he speaks over my head. I'm one of those guys who likes to swim in the shallow end of the pool. Thinking too much makes me ill.

Beatrice was called to the stage and given a fancy plaque. The principal said some nice things about her.

"Ms. Beatrice has been here for ten years. She's been a role model for both the teachers and the students. We're sorry to see her go."

And he's absolutely right. I shall miss the old bat dearly. It's hard working in a Christian environment. The Jesus police are everywhere. So it's important to find a friend with whom you can be yourself. Sadly, my buddy is gone. At least we still have Facebook.

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