William and I sit at a coffee shop downtown. I am waxing poetic on the sad state of dating for foreign women in Korea, a favorite topic of mine.
"I guess it's not so bad," I admit. "I did have a date last weekend."
"Yeah? Korean guy?"
"It didn't go so well." William stares. He doesn't need to say that this explanation is insufficient. "Ok, so he really likes hip hop culture. I mean, of course he does. We met at a dance club."
I look down. "Maybe."
"He kept talking excitedly about 'black people' or 'black guys.' Like how he saw a fight at Frog and it was between two 'black guys,' only adding later that they were American soldiers. It was said in admirable tones and all... but there's only so much 'I'm from a homogeneous society'-isms I can look past, you know?"
"Why don't you blog about this stuff? It's amusing."
"I don't know. It's a little humiliating. And there are other things I hold back. Like all that stuff I just told you about..."