Last night started off promising at my new favorite little joint Da Bar, but quickly devolved into daydreams of extreme violence.
My buddy Tad and I enjoyed a couple White Russians in the bubble area of Da Bar (covered in plastic and looking over Hongdae) along with some good conversation, then headed to Zen Bar to meet up with some of his friends. Here’s where the plot begins to thicken…
We threw both of our jackets onto a spare chair and set to enjoying ourselves. Not 10 minutes later, I swing by to check on our jackets and they’ve vanished. Poof. Tad and I both scoured the bar looking for ‘em, but to no avail. His jacket was a pretty large peacoat, and mine was an Arc’Teryx shell that’s been my go-to jacket for close to 3 years now. Being that it was 40 degrees out and I was in a ratty old shirt, I was none too pleased. Tad’s a big dude so no Korean would sport his jacket, and my jacket was too outdoorsy to be fashionable on the streets of Seoul. There’s a chance someone mistook them for their own, but with both of them being so different I think it’s more likely they were stolen.
I spent the rest of the night playing out slow-motion “300″-style beat downs in my head, hoping to catch the thief. The righteous fury that would fuel my anger when I saw him in the street would be suitably epic, and would end with me walking away victorious, jacket in hand. The bartender said it was really rare for a jacket to be taken, so there’s a small chance someone will drop it back by the bar. I’m not too hopeful though. At least I’ve got a new one coming in the mail!
I try not to become too attached to material things, but I’ll miss that damn jacket! So here’s to you Mr. Arc’Teryx shell, may you rest in peace. And whoever took it better pray that I don’t catch ‘em, because vigilante justice will be carried out on the streets of Seoul…
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