Molson Canadian beer

The end of the night came. Or, at least, the end of the night for my buddies. Not for me. For some reason, the Seoul city buses and subway trains stop around midnight, but start up around 5 or 6am. Instead of taking a $40 cab, and since I already spent waaay too much on booze, I decided to wait for mass transit. Where can you do that at 4 in the morn? Seoul Pub.

Every ex-pat knows Seoul Pub as the last stop, where relatively drunk and lonely chicks try to hook up with the biggest loser dudes. I thought I'd kill some time watching the scenery. Because, hey, I'm not a giant loser dude. Seriously!

I walked in and took a look, only to be disappointed by the lack of action. I turned to a white guy sitting at the bar and said, "Hey bud, do you know any other bars that are open?"

"Sure. Buy me a drink and I'll tell you…. Rookie," he smirked.

"Nah. I don't swing that way. But thanks for the offer," I replied.

"I ain't a fuckin' faggot you cocksucking American! Take that back!"

"Alright. I guess you're not gay, and I will just plop down next to you since there isn't much else going on." So I did. But a lot of stupid would be going on. I didn't feel like kicking this guy's ass because I just wanted to go home. Also, I wrestled Jiu Jitsu earlier that day so all the violence worked its way out of my system.

"So if you're not American, where are you from?"

"I'm from Canada! Do you even know where that is you fucking Yankee Doodle dickhead?"

"Yes, I grew up in North Dakota, it's right next to Saskatchewan."

"I don't know where your shitty state is and I don't care. Do you want to see my business card? Here! Check it out! There's English AND Korean!"

I would consider this another dipstick move, but I've shown my university business card to plenty of strangers, and tried to impress them with the professor title written under my name. And on my biz card there's English on one side and Korean on the other side too.

"That's a pretty cool bidnass card." I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, and check this shit out. You take two of MY business cards and put them together, and it makes a Yin Yang! Isn't that fucking awesome?!?!"

I looked at him and then the cards. Yes, there was a Yin Yang. Why the hell would I want two of this douche's business cards, and then put them both together? I don't know, but I thought I'd stick around for some reason just to see how much more of a moron this guy could be.

I tried to take a sip of beer and he bumped my elbow trying to pick his cards off the bar. Luckily, my pint glass didn't chip my tooth and I just spilled some beer on myself.

"Hey bud, could you pass me a napkin please?" I received a napkin with a snide stare from my Canuck neighbor. "Ah thanks. Bless your heart."

"Don't stuff your Christian beliefs down my throat, Jesus Boy! You're whole religion is a lie! Go fuck yourself and take that back!"

"'Bless your heart' is just something I say. I'm not stuffing my beliefs down your throat. Take it easy."

"Oh yeah? That's how you bible thumpers all try to act at first. Take! It! Back! NOW!"

"Look, I wasn't trying to be religious. That's one of my catchphrases. Like typing ‘kool' instead of ‘cool.' Or ‘You're the best!' It's just something I say. It's not a big deal."

"I'm about to make it a big deal! Quit trying to convert me you fucking god-fearing idiot!"

"I'm going to just quit talking to you. I'm going to catch the bus. You're an ass. I hope you spend all your Canadian dollars on shitty booze and eat shit on your way out of here. Good night and it was not nice meeting you."

I think Douche Canadian Guy muttered something into his gin and tonic. I walked out.

I used to think I could be a giant d-bag, or that I'd met the biggest of the big d-bags back in the day, but this guy took the cake.

I enjoyed my bus ride home with a late night beef jerky treat and thanked my stars I didn't need to deal with that dillweed ever again.

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