was just one person. A young man, maybe in his early twenties was dancing.
Sue couldn’t
decide what type of dancing he was doing or whom he reminded her of. Michael
Jackson? But Sue didn’t remember Michael Jackson doing break dancing the way
this young man was doing. It reminded her of the hip-hop dancing she’d seen in
music videos Angela often showed her. Whatever the movements were called, it
was entertaining. He had stamina, too. He danced several songs, took a request
and invited several audience members to dance with him. She lost track of time
and by the time she thought to glance at her watch, it was close to dinner
time.
The performance
ended and people clapped, tossing money into a guitar case before leaving. Sue
noticed a guitar perched by a bench as she walked away and assumed it belonged
to him.
“ Ahn-nyung
haseyo (Hello).” Sue greeted the young man. She had practiced her survival
phrases, picking up new words during her time in Seoul, but she still needed
more practice. She could understand more of the language than she could speak
it. She managed to introduce herself and asked his name in Korean. At least she
intended to introduce herself and asked him his name.
The young man
gave her a polite smile but didn’t answer.
“I speak
English,” she told him in English. Then in Korean, she asked if he spoke
English.
No answer. He was
still smiling. That was a good sign.
Heck. Let’s
try another approach , Sue thought. “My…name…is…Sue…and…your… name…is…?” she
asked slowly in English, pronouncing every syllable, enunciating every word.
She even pointed to him when she asked for his name. She was about to repeat
even more slowly but caught herself. She gave a nervous chuckle as she
apologized for speaking to him in such a manner. She started talking about how
absurd it was for her to repeat herself more slowly for it made no difference
if he couldn’t understand her in the first place. She even went on to say she
herself was annoyed when people thought she didn’t understand English and spoke
to her as if she was incompetent. She finally finished her long apology and
said “sorry” in Korean for treating him in a manner she herself loathed.
Remembering her
reason for approaching him, Sue gestured toward his guitar. “It’s beautiful,”
she said in Korean. “May I?” she asked in English. He gave her a lazy, curious
grin, if there was such a thing, and he nodded. “Yes!” she mentally cheered.
She finally received a response other than charming grin and that gave her more
encouragement.
However, she was
not sure if he had nodded in response to her compliment that his guitar was
beautiful or if he had nodded to give her permission to touch the guitar. She
decided it didn’t matter.
Sue examined the
guitar, admiring it as if it was a piece of priceless art before tracing the
curvy body with her finger. “It’s a Gibson,” she said with awe. She recognized
the distinctive crown design on the neck right away. She was so excited; she
sat on the bench next to the guitar and picked it up without asking further
permission. She could always plead ignorance. Besides, she had already made a
fool of herself, she thought.
She strummed the
strings and unconsciously smiled at him. “You have a beautiful guitar. Do you
play it?” Still smiling, not waiting for him to answer, she said, “Of course
you do, it’s your guitar, isn’t it?”
“Thank you. My
guitar appreciates your compliment,” he answered in perfect English, complete
with a British accent.
Sue immediately
turned her eyes to him. She hadn’t notice how tall he was until he was standing
next to her on the bench. She tilted her head all the way back to look at him.
“If you understood me, why did you allow me to make an arse of myself?”
“You were so
cute,” he answered, still smiling at her as he sat down beside her on the
bench. He wasn’t a large man, actually a little thin but with his
Sue couldn’t
decide what type of dancing he was doing or whom he reminded her of. Michael
Jackson? But Sue didn’t remember Michael Jackson doing break dancing the way
this young man was doing. It reminded her of the hip-hop dancing she’d seen in
music videos Angela often showed her. Whatever the movements were called, it
was entertaining. He had stamina, too. He danced several songs, took a request
and invited several audience members to dance with him. She lost track of time
and by the time she thought to glance at her watch, it was close to dinner
time.
The performance
ended and people clapped, tossing money into a guitar case before leaving. Sue
noticed a guitar perched by a bench as she walked away and assumed it belonged
to him.
“ Ahn-nyung
haseyo (Hello).” Sue greeted the young man. She had practiced her survival
phrases, picking up new words during her time in Seoul, but she still needed
more practice. She could understand more of the language than she could speak
it. She managed to introduce herself and asked his name in Korean. At least she
intended to introduce herself and asked him his name.
The young man
gave her a polite smile but didn’t answer.
“I speak
English,” she told him in English. Then in Korean, she asked if he spoke
English.
No answer. He was
still smiling. That was a good sign.
Heck. Let’s
try another approach , Sue thought. “My…name…is…Sue…and…your… name…is…?” she
asked slowly in English, pronouncing every syllable, enunciating every word.
She even pointed to him when she asked for his name. She was about to repeat
even more slowly but caught herself. She gave a nervous chuckle as she
apologized for speaking to him in such a manner. She started talking about how
absurd it was for her to repeat herself more slowly for it made no difference
if he couldn’t understand her in the first place. She even went on to say she
herself was annoyed when people thought she didn’t understand English and spoke
to her as if she was incompetent. She finally finished her long apology and
said “sorry” in Korean for treating him in a manner she herself loathed.
Remembering her
reason for approaching him, Sue gestured toward his guitar. “It’s beautiful,”
she said in Korean. “May I?” she asked in English. He gave her a lazy, curious
grin, if there was such a thing, and he nodded. “Yes!” she mentally cheered.
She finally received a response other than charming grin and that gave her more
encouragement.
However, she was
not sure if he had nodded in response to her compliment that his guitar was
beautiful or if he had nodded to give her permission to touch the guitar. She
decided it didn’t matter.
Sue examined the
guitar, admiring it as if it was a piece of priceless art before tracing the
curvy body with her finger. “It’s a Gibson,” she said with awe. She recognized
the distinctive crown design on the neck right away. She was so excited; she
sat on the bench next to the guitar and picked it up without asking further
permission. She could always plead ignorance. Besides, she had already made a
fool of herself, she thought.
She strummed the
strings and unconsciously smiled at him. “You have a beautiful guitar. Do you
play it?” Still smiling, not waiting for him to answer, she said, “Of course
you do, it’s your guitar, isn’t it?”
“Thank you. My
guitar appreciates your compliment,” he answered in perfect English, complete
with a British accent.
Sue immediately
turned her eyes to him. She hadn’t notice how tall he was until he was standing
next to her on the bench. She tilted her head all the way back to look at him.
“If you understood me, why did you allow me to make an arse of myself?”
“You were so
cute,” he answered, still smiling at her as he sat down beside her on the
bench. He wasn’t a large man, actually a little thin but with his
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