The Psycho, The Russian and Richard.

Saturday 5th June...

It's time to hit Busan. Little Spoon knocks on my door and we head to the train station, stopping quickly to buy a couple of bottles of Soju for the trip. Afterall we are going by train and no journey on public transport is complete without getting needlessly drunk and making your fellow passengers feel uncomfortable.

As the train pulls into Busan, we leap off in a haze of excitement about the wonders of seeing a festival based around sandcastles built by grown men. But we need to get money first. I have only $100 on me as I foolishly left money at my apartment, and who knows how much a beer is in Busan? What will I spend on food? How much will the hotel cost? These are all questions I need answering. Not the most grave and important questions facing mankind granted; but questions nevertheless.

The machine swallows my card. Brilliant. Fucking Koreans. The xenophobia passes as I look over and see that Little Spoon is merrily requesting $600! She is not going to spend that in one night and one day, so I should be able to borrow money if needs be.
I look at her. She looks extremely cheerful and is humming to herself. I wonder why she is taking out so much money "Erm...how much did you mean to withdraw".

Spoon looks at me as if I have asked her what country we are in or how we got here. "Sixty dollars obviously". Ah, okay.

Me: "But you've just entered 600,000 won"
Spoon: "Er yeah..duh, and a dollar is 1000 won".
Me: "Well quite. So if a dollar is 1000 won, then 60 dollars is 1000 multiplied by 60, which is what?"

She frowns. She looks upwards and bites her bottom lip, I can hear the cogs grinding inside her head. "Oh shit, no, I need to put it back".

For a second it looks as if she might try to post the money back into the machine, but instead we meander off to find Blancquita and her friend Nancy.

We meet them and a couple of other teachers and get down to some dedicated drinking. And it is at this point that we meet an unlikely trio of Korean girls. My memory is a little fuzzy, but during the night our group was joined by a friendly Korean girl, her gigantic and miserable friend nicknamed "The Russian" and a third girl who seems rather agitated and aggressive who I shall call "The Psycho".

Nobody explained why "The Russian" was named as she was, but I put it down to either the fact that she seemed as happy as someone who had just won a holiday to a Gulag or an unnatural love of potatoes and vodka.

We arrived at the beach to observe the festival and I will have to take back some of my sneering criticism. The sandcastles and carvings were insanely detailed. It must take genuine talent to produce, but if I was being a grumpy, killjoy twat then I might argue it was talent that could be put to better use. And I am.



And then we sat down in a circle and began talking. Within seconds, The Psycho has suddenly blurted out.. "I tell you something, story about my friend Richard".

A story about a man I'd never met called Richard? I was all ears.

The Psycho begins...

"So, I have English friend, name is a Richard." So far so good, nice to have some information at the start of a story about who it's about and where he's from etc. Carry on...

"And Richard have some problem when he get to Korea. Have problem with his school and with place to stay. I know friend who can help him so I get him better job and give him number of person to find good price for place to stay."

I check the rest of the group, yes as I thought nobody is exactly gripped yet. Frankly this story about Richard better pick up soon or I'm off to look at a sandcastle. But it sure does pick up...

"Now I am woman. I have the pussy YES?"

Bit of a tangent here, but we all nod in agreement, she is a woman and she has well "a" pussy certainly, I don't want to correct her use of the word "the" it just seems petty.

"So if I want to give this pussy to man I can do whenever I like. So I help Richard with job, and what does he send me in text message? I tell you. He says 'Oh thankyou so much, you have been so helpful to me, you are such a nice girl, I don't know how to thank you.'

Ah nice message, she must have been pleased with that text from Richard...

"So I text back to him...FUCK YOU RICHARD"

Wow. I look at the group and yep everyone is taken aback. Shit even The Russian appears to have awoken from her maudlin slumber to make a face that suggests the reply was a tad unorthodox.

"Fucking Richard, think you get this pussy because you say I am nice. FUCK YOU RICHARD, don't text me all nice words FUCKING SHIT".

And so it turns out that she told Richard in no uncertain terms to never contact her again. I would love to have seen Richards face when the familiar beep beep of a text message went off and he eagerly opened up a text to see something along the lines of "Don't mention it, glad I could help, will see you soon".

Poor Richard. The atmosphere had turned dark, The Russian heaved her towering frame off the sand and drags The Psycho and an apologetic friendly Korean off into the darkness. And as they weave away between the sandcastles, for a second I think I hear the faint sobs of Richard upon the nights breeze.

Little Spoon, Blancquita and Nancy suggest we hit a cocktail bar the next day and we spend the hours getting obliterated and wondering what became of Richard.

Until next time...

This is Monkey Roberts.