Good Times and Bad Times

Right by Sinchon Rotary there's a pizza joint called Pizza Hand. It's a place that P took me to a long time ago. I remember hoping the pizza would come out in the shape of a hand, but disappointingly it didn't. A few days ago I walked by the shop and went back for old times sake. I ordered a regular peperoni and sat where we had sat three years ago. It hadn't changed a bit.

While waiting for my pizza I read in my book. I was close to finishing it and didn't want to be disturbed. A group of three guys got their order first and they started eating. I had turned my back on them, but the munching sounds they made reminded me of a barbarian post-battle feast. I was close to throwing my jar of pickles in their ignorant visages, but I controlled myself.

So I put my book aside and spent the rest of the wait looking out the window. Another guy entered and sat in the corner far back. Soon, my order was ready and I got up to get it from the counter. Now, as I walked away from my spot, the guy from the corner stood up and walked over to my table. He bent over my stuff, as if it was nothing, and read the cover of my book.

I stared at him in furious anger but was unable to say anything. I was too bewildered by his behaviour. First, the three guys who couldn't shut their stupid mouths while chewing, slurping, hacking their food, which is usually enough to piss me off, and then the random dude who just deserves to be thoroughly fucked up by a lesson in how to avoid confrontations that could get you killed.