Meeting someone you know from online can go very well or very badly. I remember, way back in the dinosaur days of AOL and its various message boards (BBS, i.e., bulletin-board service), that I went to DC to meet with fellow writers from the chat room called The Amazing Instant Novelist (AIN). This was back when people were first discovering that having a brain and being able to express yourself well could be a nerdy form of sexy. I think we were all a little bit naughty and a lot horny back then, with some attractions leading to real-life sexual encounters, or at least to heavy flirtation.
I never got any sex from the AOL/AIN experience, but with my weak morals, I did stray across some boundaries that shouldn't be infringed upon in real life, and like a lot of other people back then, I discovered that "e-friendships" could be as real and impactful as IRL (in real life) friendships. I was a creative writer (4000-character-per-post limit back then, so we're talking mainly short-short stories, poems, etc.); I was a troll (lots of flame wars); I was a debater/combatant in those days, back when I had a lot more ego and a lot more sap. These days, I'm fat, tired, probably low-T, and not much in the mood for long, dragging debates. I prefer discussion, and while I do pass along and engage in my own polemics, those polemics are generally addressed to groups, not to one person in particular, which is why I find it amusing when some commenters will approach me with critical comments directed at me specifically when I had never directed such comments at them specifically. I think these commenters are generally un-self-aware, heedless of the asymmetry I'm talking about.
But I digress. That DC meeting with two other people from AIN proved to be a disaster. We all met at DC's Union Station, which has plenty of restaurants, for lunch. I think we settled on some generic pizza place. It was me sitting across from two ladies, and I got the distinct impression that all three of us had thought that at least one of the other two of us would prove to be attractive in person. But we were three warty, lumpen people, sitting at a table and fumbling for what to say. The youngest of the three of us started awkwardly hum-singing the theme song from the old sitcom "Sanford & Son." She did this several times whenever the mood dropped into lameness, which was often. We ate our pizza, had a halting, desultory discussion, and went our separate ways with no promises ever to meet again. The memory of that meeting haunts me to this day. I've only become more introverted since then since most people suck, but I hope I've become a slightly better conversationalist given my age and (theoretical) life experience. (Experience means nothing if you never learn from it.)
With echoes of that horrible day in DC in my head, I finally met the mysterious commenter Daniel S. yesterday for dinner. Daniel has mostly been a commenter on the walk blogs, but he's left occasional comments here, on the main blog. For the longest time, I thought he was a gyopo/dongpo, but he's yet another white guy who speaks better Korean than I do. I seem to surround myself with such people, maybe for reasons of self-flagellation. Daniel's online demeanor struck me as intelligent, affable, and informative, and he obviously had a wide range of interests ranging from religious scriptures to biology. Politically, I'd say Daniel is a bit left of where I am (that's just a guess), but he strikes me as a moderate pragmatist, not a frothing extreme-leftist. Daniel's married and has a brood of four kids; he teaches in the northern part of Seoul but has a few side jobs (a must with so many mouths to feed), including one in Jamshil, which is where we met.
There's a restaurant in Lotte World Mall, on the sixth floor, called Hott Pott (yeah, I know—the spelling... but it's not intolerably Konglishy), a slightly higher-end Korean place with a small menu of items, allowing the chefs to prepare each dish well instead of creating a homogeneous slop. When Daniel first explained the Hott Pott culinary concept to me, I was initially attracted to the idea of ordering a ddukbaegi bulgogi/뚝배기 불고기, but when I looked at the menu, I saw something I'd been wanting to try again ever since my east-coast walk from four years back (2021—has it really already been nearly four years?): sea urchin.
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| my sea-urchin dish |
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| Daniel's beef-rib dish |
My dish proved delicious; I only wish there had been a bit more actual sea urchin it it. But I know sea urchin is expensive, and prepping it can be a bit labor-intensive (see this video, where you learn that the part we eat is the gonads). Daniel said his beef was good, but not as good as when he'd come to Hott Pott with his boss. Still, the restaurant was overall a nice experience. I'll probably go back someday, preferably when the subway isn't so crowded.
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| the man himself |
Since I had paid for dinner, Daniel insisted on treating me to dessert. On our way, we passed a place advertising itself as serving Belgian fries (chips for you UK readers), with a tempting variety of toppings and sauces. We went to a doughnut/pastry place called Café Knotted (see here and here—Daniel, is this your blog?). The ambience, with its cartoons and primary colors, struck me as geared toward kids, and I was getting the creepy feeling that I was being led into a child molester's slaughter dungeon, but Daniel made the practical point that the seating there was good, which was in contrast to how things are at the Jongno Baskin Robbins by Jongno 2-ga Station—the eternally crowded ice-cream shop that Tom and I visit after we've had our galmaegi in the same neighborhood. Daniel also noted with pleasure that the place was still open despite the late hour. After Daniel wrestled with the muin (no-person, i.e., automated) kiosk, we decided to go to the register to order doughnuts the old-fashioned way (the kiosk wasn't showing everything we'd wanted to order). Daniel, who works part-time as a translator and has a Korean wife, did all of the talking, allowing me to be my lazy self.
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three flavors: chocolate pudding, mint chocolate chip (brown sprinkles), and what I thought was some kind of berry doughnut (raspberry... and chocolate?) |
I joked about how Café Knotted's chairs, so sharply angular (except for the backs), looked like seats in an interrogation room. Daniel was graciously tolerant of my sense of humor.
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| just two large dudes in a doughnut shop |
Daniel and I parted ways in Jamshil Station, promising to meet up again. I have a few ideas for the next meet-up, but any lengthy daytime walk that I do with Daniel will have to be in the fall, what with summer now basically here. I'll be doing long walks at night, which I can't expect Daniel to do give his jobs and family.
So... this introvert may have made a new friend. Unless there's a torture dungeon in my future.
