I'm at the Magic Station PC-bahng on KU campus. A few minutes ago, I took a much-needed break from blogging to go lay down some suppressing fire of the fecal kind... and of course the bathroom stalls were devoid of toilet paper. Luckily, I had a pack of tissues in my chest pocket, so I was ready for this little emergency. All went as planned, and my dark, chunky minons are even now braving the cold drainage/sewage pipes to strike deep into the heart of Pyongyang. The North Koreans'll never suspect a thing. Until it's too late.
Carrying around a tissue pack is a good idea in Seoul, good survival technique. Many stalls run out of toilet paper, or as is the case with most of the public restrooms in the subways, you have to shell out a couple hundred won to get a pack from a dispenser, thereby telegraphing to the world your intentions to pinch off some heavy-duty pumpernickel. I'm not embarrassed by that, but it is inconvenient to fumble through your pockets while your ass is readying itself to perform The Brown Scream.
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