What Happened to the BHC?

After a solid evening workout in late Winter, I decided to treat myself to a hot bowl of kimchi jiggae (spicy soup) at the bus terminal's kimbap restaurant. It's one of my favorite places to get the dish and I talked of it's wonders with my friend, George. We shared a mutual admiration and decided to dine together and then call it an early evening.

The food was good as always. Once we finished, we walked through the terminal to protect ourselves from the cold. Everything looked the same along the hallway except for one stall. The BHC (Big Hit Chicken Restaurant) had vanished over night. I peered through the glass and saw that everything was gone. I kept staring as I looked for clues to what would be going in it's place. There was nothing to be found; just a gutted white space with a few men walking around. And then, they spotted us.

I can only imagine how my face looked: curiosity, confusion, mouth agape...The men smiled through the glass and then rushed to the door to greet George and I. Within seconds we were ushered in to join them. We sat in the white room at a make shift dining room table on a hodge podge of chairs surrounding a gas range prepped to make Samgyeopsal (pork) with complimenting soju.

Coincidentally, this was not the first nor the last time we enjoyed random Korean hospitality together. The group started to convene around us. Every man came with another ingredient and more soju: lettuce, homemade soybean paste, hoddeok, and onions. This was to be a feast. I looked at George with an 'oh crap...do we have to?!' look.  Already tired and full, we gave ourselves a time limit of 8:30. This would have to end within the next hour.

As we ate, drank, and chatted with the group, we learned that we were among terminal royalty. Each man owned one of the shops in or around the terminal including the pharmacy, grocery store, massage parlor, Family Mart, and barber shop. They seemed like really nice guys as they showed us their adult children, chatted about our schools and local area, and continued to marvel over George's long dreads.

Needless to say, we didn't make our 8:30 deadline. Finally, at 9:15 we made our escape with low, reverent bows. The men shared disappointed smiles and continued on with their evening. I walked home with George in disbelief. 'Did that really just happen? It's a Tuesday!' Neither of us could stop laughing...

Just another  random weeknight in small town Korea.

One Shot,
-Bets