Chapter 80

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Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I took a nasty shit while reading the paper. Many Korean men and women were arrested at Incheon Airport for smuggling gold into the country. The men hid the metal up their asses while the women used both their asses and vaginas. It's easy to make a profit in gold here on the peninsula because the government slaps a fifteen percent tax on the metal.

I drove Rice-Boy Larry to school in my beater. There was no meeting because it was Sports Day. The kids spent the morning and afternoon playing soccer, basketball, baseball, etc. Classes will resume on Monday.

I was selected to referee both football and soccer. But the other refs had no need for me. Consequently, they shooed me away as if I were a pesky fly. I don't have many friends at work these days. But that's not a big deal. We have a lot of teacher turnover, so friends tend to come and go. Some years are lonelier than others. Next February,--if I'm still here—a fresh batch of personnel will join the team. They will probably be more conservative because the principal is tired of hiring liberal loons. What's the point of having a Christian school if the ultra-liberal staff gives the children permission to become sodomites and abortionists?

The Dragon Lady came at 3 p.m., and I left work early. Usually, I'm required to stay until 5 p.m., but today was special. We went to eat. After that, we drove to Incheon Airport to pick up Ken. He's visiting for two months.

On the way, my ass started to hurt.

I said, "Man, my ass really hurts."

The Dragon Lady said, "You rike a girl. You nevah shut da mouth. Idiot."

I said, "You da asshoe."

"You da stoopid cun."

"At least I graduated from a four year college. You were too stupid to get accepted to one. That's why you can't make any money.

"Your motha da cun just rike you."

"Your parents are both a couple of idiots."

She punched me in the head. I almost swerved into traffic.

I said, "Stop it, you crazy bitch."

She hit me again.

Rice-Boy Larry started to cry. I don't blame him. He was scared for his life. He talked to her frantically in Korean. But to no avail. She kept striking me over and over again. Then she dug her razor-sharp fingernails into the flesh of my right arm. You should see my body. I'm covered in bruises and scars.

We separated at the airport. I needed some breathing space. She took Rice-Boy Larry with her while I sat at the gate. I thought about getting a divorce. I know it sounds silly for a grown man to say this, but I often feel as if I'm a victim of abuse. However, I don't want to leave my youngest son with this monster. I'm in a tight spot.

It was great to lay eyes on Ken again. He looked plump and healthy. Ken's a soft doughy Asian kid, but I couldn't ask for a better son. I took him to eat, and we spent the night in a hotel.

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