Street Fighting With Little Spoon.

Once again I have let myself down with a prolonged absence from doing anything constructive. Today marks two weeks since I wrote my last blog and almost the same time since I last went to the gym, but in my defence I have been ill and I have been busy. Busy being ill. But I have never been one to lie down and complain so in true gritty fashion I forced myself out onto the cold stone streets each weekend to drink Soju and whine about my job.

It was during such a night of despondent drinking that Little Spoon and I became involved in one of the most entertaining episodes of my travels. Allow me to set the scene. It was 1.30am and as nobody else seemed eager to listen to me complain about life and gradually become more and more unintelligible, I had to make do with only Little Spoon's sympathetic ear.

We left one bar and like the intrepid souls we are, ventured out into the bleak night to discover pastures new. Sadly the pastures seemed well hidden and with the wind gnawing my pasty white skin, I abandoned our brief flirtation with originality and guided us into the Fish and Grill bar that we have gone to almost every week for the past six months. There is never a dull moment with me at the helm.

As the night ambled along I began to think we should call it a day, when the screeching began. Halfway through one of my ingenious, witty anecdotes I was rudely cut short by a nasal squawking. It seemed that Little Spoon's sympathetic ear had caught this untimely intervention too as she turned towards the sound and helpfully informed me what was going on.

Little Spoon: "Ooooo she's mad"

I looked around and saw the cause of all this commotion. Yes, she certainly did look mad. In fact she looked utterly unhinged. A Korean woman in her mid fourties was leaping around a table like some rabid baboon and jabbing her finger in the face of what I could only guess was her husband. He was either drunk or brain dead, as his face was expressionless and he had not said a word as his demented partner continued to shriek and dance around their table.

I had my suspicions that not all was right in this relationship and as her volume increased it was clear that things were only going to get worse. Excellent. I ordered some more drinks and a small snack.
There are few things I like more than watching another persons misfortune and front row seats to seeing a relationship unravel before my eyes, was a belated Christmas present that even my stony heart could not fail to be warmed by.

The one sided argument continued for a while and then at long last the wild woman of Daegu snapped. With the aim of a short sighted, cataract sufferer this furious bundle of permed hair and floral patterns launched a pint of beer towards her brow beaten husband. He reacted as he had done to everything in the previous twenty minutes; he did nothing. But then he wasn't soaked in watery beer, which could not be said for the woman sat behind him.

Because despite only having to travel a matter of two feet, the beer had been so badly aimed that it had sailed straight past its intended target and drenched a woman in her twenties who was sat gazing wistfully into her boyfriends eyes.

I was nothing short of delighted. Innocent bystanders being dragged into an unseemly spat? I wait months for this type of entertainment, "Little Spoon get me another beer and some of those tasteless snacks."

But oh how the beer incident had changed the once placid husband. Because unbelievably as the soaked girl and her boyfriend remonstrated with the wildest shot in the east, the unshakeable husband erupted in a fit of completely unreasonable fury. He began to scream. At the innocent girl dripping in beer. Whatever next?

Well, I'll tell you what came next. A plate of spicy chicken with garlic sauce. The wife clearly felt that anyone covered in beer would be in serious need of some hearty food to tuck into, so she kindly threw an entire plate of well seasoned poultry over the very same girl.

Little Spoon informed me once more that someone was "mad" and I had to agree. The manager calmly asked the older couple to leave and then it really stepped up a gear. Suddenly the deranged wife began hurling ash trays and plates at a group of around fifteen men, and all as the husband stood outside arguing with the manager. I was still enjoying myself and thinking about ordering another beer when the husband decided to punch the manager!

Despite being one of the worst punches I have ever seen thrown, it was still a punch and the manager was still a very small woman. I was livid. If she were to be knocked out there was very little chance that I would get another beer, afterall the waiter was now sobbing like a newborn child and hiding behind a chair.

I knew what I had to do and like a knight in slightly jaded armour I leapt from my seat and ran to the aid of the woman who provided me with beer. But I was too slow. Maybe my armour was heavier than I had thought or perhaps I stopped briefly to have one last handful of tasteless bar snacks, but as I got to the door I was overtaken by everyone else in the bar.

They were all men, and in total perhaps twenty of them rushed from the bar and attacked the once calm husband. The ensuing melee saw the husband and wife team take somewhat of a thrashing whilst Little Spoon and I stood on the pavement (sidewalk to my transatlantic friends) and watched. Inbetween Little Spoons vivid commentary on who was currently mad, I noticed that these Koreans had a strange style of fighting.

Nobody punched their opponent in the face. Was this simply more bad aiming or some sort of unusual, unwritten rule of etiquette?

The Police arrived and began to clear the scene, at which point the rather bedraggled husband got to his feet, saw me, screamed to the night sky and launched himself at me. In keeping with the Korean rules of combat he just grabbed my hoodie and roared a lot. I had a sneaky feeling that I could quickly gain the upper hand here by breaking Korean street brawl rules and punching this fellow firmly on the nose. But the police were here and there were also ten other Korean men holding his arms and gradually prising his sausage like fingers from my sweater.

Was a punch on a defenceless idiot a wise idea? It would certainly be fun, but no I'd better not risk it. He had not hit me and was really just shouting a lot and frothing a little at the mouth. But wait someone was hitting him. Through the sea of arms and bespectacled faces I could see tiny fists pummelling this mans arms and back.

And then the face appeared. Little Spoons furious face bobbing momentarily above the crowd as she launched another attack. If there had been a second Little Spoon stood near by I am confident that she would have surveyed the scene and let me know that "Oooo she's mad".

Eventually the couple were led away and the crowd returned to the bar, where the waiter was still weeping and the beer soaked girl was still wringing out her dress and picking hot wings from her hair.

I sat Little Spoon down in the red corner and congratulated her on her efforts. This had turned out to be an excellent nights entertainment and yet the locals seemed ashamed of the whole event.

They apologised profusely not knowing how homesick I had been feeling to go out for whole nights and never witness a moron start a fight for no reason. But they insisted on buying us drinks as an apology, so as ever I respected the local culture and graciously accepted their offerings.

Until next time...