Tuesday, July 27, 2004

and the morning and the block shift were the second day

Yes, I could get used to the rhythm at EC, but the schedule is going to suck up my life, especially once I start the split shift next week. They've already reamed me by scheduling me for three Saturdays in August when the contract said I'd be working only two.

But if every day were like today, I wouldn't mind too much. It was a decent day; plenty of back-to-back classes plus two apparent cancellations. The giggly girl, Miss Yoon, was back, but I wasn't wearing a lab coat, so she had nothing to laugh at. She comes for lessons twice a day; today we did a standard lesson from the EC textbook, and in our second session we did some "directed free-talking," which sounds oxymoronic but makes sense once explained. Miss Yoon is actually adorable, a cute little high schooler who loves horror films and Net-surfing. I should ask her her opinion of the blog blockage, but I bet she doesn't even know it's happening.

The highlight of my day was the last class, when a drop-dead gorgeous student from Seoul National University walked in. Day-yamn. Definitely ritzy Kangnam material: trendy summer clothes, lovely, flowing hair, absolute confidence. She'd spent time in both America and France and had a decent command of French. Her English had some rough edges but she was pretty damn proficient-- certainly more than I am in Korean. It was all I could do to keep from ogling. The twenty-five minutes with her passed quickly. I kept wondering how bad my breath smelled.

In case you're curious: yes, she has a boyfriend, and he's in America for surgery, apparently related to alcoholism, although this wasn't exactly made clear.

Arrête de boire, Jojo
tu deviendras barjo...

When I change to a split shift next week, it's likely I'll be losing most of the students I've met, and I've met quite a few good, decent folks with whom I'd like to continue. This SNU student, however... it's probably better to lose her, because I'm just a dirty old man inflamed with highly improper lust.* Poor thing. She probably has no idea. Unless she can read dilated pupils.

Did you know you can gauge how much someone likes you by whether their pupils dilate or contract when you get uncomfortably close to their face? It's one of those automatic reactions you can't fake, apparently. We brown-eyed folks have an advantage, since our pupils are harder to see.

[*NB: I was told by one of my foreign co-workers that one of the school's best teachers, an Australian, was canned for "fucking around" with his students. Somebody somewhere should write an exposé about hagwons and hookups. There's more material than you can shake your dick at.]


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