Seoul: Day 2 Continued. Not quite right

After returning from a stressful day at the DMZ, we decided to check out an Italian restaurant down the street. Except for the language, Seoul seems very much like being in New York. But there is always something that is just not quite right. Tonight it was the mozzarella balls. See the explaination in my ¿Como Say What? blog. Also, they had wine. We could choose between Red or White. Those were our choices. I have no idea what I drank other than it tasted like a Chardonnay. We couldn’t guess the red.

After dinner, we went out for drinks. We sat at an outside table at a Japanese restaurant so we could scope out the guys. See and be seen. And stick out like the sore, white thumbs we were. But it seems we were in the wrong part of town. They were all couples. Everywhere. There were three cute guys that walked by us early on. I should have grabbed them then, but I thought we would have more options. Nope. That was it.

So we drank. The Archivist ordered a beer. Meine Schwester and I made the mistake of ordering two pots of soju, thinking we were just getting two drinks. One was seeped in cucumbers and the other in lemon. The cucumber got better with age, but the lemon was fabulous right from the start. But we didn’t even come close to finishing one tea pot, let alone two. Our reputations are much inflated.

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