Air Defense Artillery, Part Four
August 06, 2008
Because none of us were any good at it, and because of the drinking, the pool game drew on and became boring. We stayed at the table anyhow, because there were not many seats in the place and it gave us a spot to stand. The dancers paid us more attention the more we drank. One of the girls, blonde and pretty save her broad shoulders, looked me in the eye and smiled. I smiled and nodded feeling cheap, and wanted to move on. Someone asked if we were using the table, because it was obvious that we were not. Patrick told him we were, planting the butt of his pool queue on the floor like a spear and glaring. The guy went away. DB and Patrick in turn bought rounds of whiskey and coke, and we smoked cigarettes and joked.
Smoking cigarettes was another thing that almost everybody in the army did. Cigarettes in Korea were mostly long and skinny, like women's cigarettes in America. The filters on them were perforated to break clean in half, giving you some options with each smoke. None of the Americans ever seemed to notice this, and I made a point of showing them. Most of us said we were trying to quit smoking. There were prescription drugs that were supposed to help you quit, and they were free if you asked for them. The army wants you to know that it cares for you, that it wants you healthy. I went to the doctor once and I told him that I wanted to quit smoking, and that I wanted help. He said I didn't seem like I had the spirit of the thing. I still smoke cigarettes sometimes. Maybe he was right.
After all three of us had bought another round, we were ready to go somewhere else. The spot we were in had gotten boozier and smokier and rowdier, and I was glad to move one. The blonde dancer looked at me again smiling on my way out, DB and Patrick leading the way. I pretended not to see her.
It was getting really dark outside. You couldn't see the stars on account of all the lights, but it was night time, and getting late. We moved a few doors down to a little club at street level. It was dark inside with loud music and flashing lights on a little dance floor. It was too loud to listen or even talk very clear. We decided on a table by pointing and nodding, and sat down a few feet away from the dance floor. There were a few Korean girls and plenty of Air Force girls dancing to the electric music. None of these dancers were hired girls. A few men were on the floor too, not dancing really but swaying awkwardly and ogling the girls. It probably took a lot of drinking to get them up there.
A Korean waiter arrived, and looked at us expectantly. I tried ordering whiskey cokes, but it was too loud and he couldn't understand me. DB tried, standing up and leaning close to the waiter who nodded his confusion. Patrick was scanning the menu front then back, front then back, searching for something he could point too. Finally, I stood up and told the waiter jack coke. I said it loud, and I made a swirling motion with my finger, making circles pointing to me and my buddies. It was awful loud in there. I repeated myself a few times getting louder, and repeating the swirling motion. DB was talking to him too, with his own words and gestures. After a few moments, the waiter smiled with his teeth, and walked away. He took his first two steps backward, still facing us. Patrick went onto the dance floor, shouting something toward me and DB and nodding. Me and DB didn't dance. We sat and wondered what the waiter would bring.
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