Now that I've given you all a good first taste of my arrest story, like any good drug dealer I'm here to follow up with a second hit laced with disappointment, junkie hope, and just a little PCP. Let's chase that dragon
together:
When last we left our intrepid hero, I had just been told by detectives that no one would tell the school about what had happened. It stands to reason, then, that a couple days later one of the Korean staff at school would come up to me and mention that the police had called, asking after me.
A little context: just a week or two ago I had been thoroughly chastised by my boss for, well, showing up constantly late, and not prepping. I made it through that by the skin of my teeth, so one can imagine the mood when I get called into her office to talk about these current events. It wasn't super pretty, but long story cut very short I convince her of the same story I told the cops and she says she's going to accompany me to the police station for my meeting with the detectives.
When I get to the part about "John" and "Christopher", I make sure to mention that while they told they were teachers, they also had shaved heads, which prompts her to draw the conclusion that not only were these mystery scoundrels not teachers, but they must have been American GIs. Dirty, lying, roof-climbin' GIs. In fact, she tells me, the entire thing may even have been a setup to get me in trouble.
For fun! These guys are freaking diabolical. She goes on to asks me how much I had to drink that night, and I keep to the same story of "just two beers" and tell her all about how I asked to be breathalyzed, and she responds that they only give breathalyzers to drunk drivers. Score one for hunches, I think to myself. She also informs me that in Korea people on roofs are generally considered to be burglars, which I chalk up to cultural misunderstanding. A really, really big misunderstanding. Cultures and all.
You should also know that my boss is Christian. Reeeeal Christian. I told her I was Christian as well back when I was trouble for the whole late/not prepping thing, and now I decided to go all in. I got very humble, and played a card I had been saving for awhile. I told her I would go to church, and asked where I could find one, so that once again I could feel the loving embrace of the Lord, who would bring me back to the path of righteousness and end my straying days.
Turns out, one of my coworkers went to an English service at a church nearby. The next Sunday I go with her, sit through the service, and make sure to grab a pamphlet on my way out. Be prepared, us Boy Scouts say. I also get a call from one of the detectives, reminding me of the meeting and also asking if I've managed to find John and Christopher yet, because it's of the utmost importance that they are found. Of course I haven't forgotten the meeting, I say, and No I haven't seen John or Christopher, because of course they don't exist but I tell them I'm Trying My Best.
It's the Big Day. My boss pulls up outside of my apartment and gives me a ride to the police station. I'm dressed to the nines in my suit, church pamphlet in my pocket, and routinely throwing out anecdotes about how good it feels to be back in the flock and all that. We arrive, and it turns out the place is much busier in the afternoon than at 6am. The old guy house owner is there, as well as a translator to take my statement. My boss speaks in Korean with the detectives and Old Guy, presumably defending me and explaining my story as she knows it. Turns out Old Guy was living in that house with his whole family, including his grandkids who I'm told were terrified when they heard me up on that roof. I don't feel great about that.
Now's the part where the old man was supposed to extort a shitload of money out of me. If you think America loves its litigation, you can't imagine how sue-crazy Korea is. TURNS OUT though that this guy is actually pretty rich, and furthermore
is also fucking Christian and not only doesn't want money, but he isn't going to press charges.
Oh yes. Things were all turning out Jamie.
Except for a bit the detectives mention about how they're still going to forward my case to the city prosecutor, who will then decide whether to stick me with a charge anyways. Spoiler Alert: It's been two and a half months, and I haven't heard anything back about that, so it's probably safe to assume I'm in the clear. Anyways, after I'm done giving my statement they take my fingerprints and then give us some little energy drinks (Vita500) from a cabinet and send us on our way. Before we leave, the detectives tell me it's still crucially important that I find John and Christopher, because without them they can't close my case or some shit. My boss also asks me about "Jack", the fake boss I had made up previously so they wouldn't call my real one, and I tell her that Jack was the English name of a Korean guy I knew who spoke Korean, and thus thought could help me. Of all my bullshit, this had to be the easiest to believe, and she's satisfied.
We blow the proverbial popsicle stand and she takes me to lunch before work, assuring me that everything will be okay and that I need to be more careful about the people I meet. She also tells me I should only try to date girls at church, because the girls I meet downtown are "not to be trusted" and want "certain things". I could go on about all her other maternal habits, but that's one of my favorites, in addition to her telling me that I would have to go shopping in the girls' department because I was too skinny.
Now that matters with the police were over, the next week consisted of wrapping up a couple loose ends. First, I had to meet with the director of my school and give him a letter I wrote all about what happened and how sorry I was and how much I loved working 6 days a week at his school. The letter was in English, which he doesn't speak a word of, but his wife knows a little and seemed somewhat impressed. What really scored some points for me was when I threw some Korean at him, which he appreciated because according to my boss we were both "academic men". I also bought him a cake, because that seemed like a thing to do.
Next up was meeting with the old man one last time, to get a signed paper from him promising he wasn't going to press charges. My boss was really keen on this, so I went with, he signed it, and I bought him a cake too.
Oh, did I say matters with the police were over? Because I meant the exact opposite. I received a couple more calls from the detectives, each time asking if I had run into John or Christopher, or if I had their numbers, or knew where they might be. At first I thought (because I've seen The Shield) they were testing me, trying to trip me up in a contradiction, but now I think they're just bored. I became further convinced of their lack of pressing work (and general incompetence) when I get a call to meet one of the detectives on December 23rd, so we could go downtown and I could personally show the detective where I had last seen John and Christopher. A fairly quick rundown:
The detective picks me up at his apartment and drives me downtown. I'm determined not to inadvertently cause trouble for any of the bars I actually like, so I lead the way to Club G2, where douchebags go to dance and the staff are generally dicks. I'd been there before around the same timeframe as the roof-climbing, so logistically it made a pretty good scapegoat. The detective asks the guy working there, apparently the manager, if he's heard of "John" and "Christopher", if he's seen me before, the usual bullshit questions that have almost no chance of being of any worth. What I didn't count on is the manager replying that not only has he not heard of John or Christopher, but also claiming that he knows EVERY foreigner who comes in his club, and that I've never been there before. While you're mulling that over, additionally consider that my detective
believed him.
Trust me on this or not, but I've been to G2 not once, but a few times. Now, I hadn't seen this particular guy before that I could recall, but to actually conclude that I've never been there because he personally knows EVERY foreigner that comes into his crowded dance club EVERY night? I was stunned and frankly admired his raw animal audacity. To top it off, this eidetic club manager more than anything or anyone else manages to make the detective suspect flaws in my story. Simply incredible. After this I decide to turn off the innocent naive angle I had been keeping up, and just went into flat-out confidence. I began correcting his English, asking him questions, showing off more of my Korean, and generally led the conversations. I also make him give me a ride to a department store, because I needed to pick up a secret santa gift.
Can you guess what I bought?
On the drive over, we have a conversation about StarCraft of all things (a topic brought up by my middle aged detective, lest there be any confusion). Turns out he plays Terran and Zerg, doesn't think he's very good but still has fun. Before I leave him, he shakes my hand and tells me that I'm a "good man", and that my boss told them that I'm a hard worker who puts a lot of time and effort into teaching. Either I'm even better at shmoozing than I imagined, or she lied through her teeth, but I'll take it.
So, a conclusion. This is where I should probably insert some huge personal revelation the entire experience gave me, and I'll admit I had a couple moments of deep soul-searching, wondering about the true nature of alcoholism, recklessness, manipulation, and deceit. But fuck that shit. Let's take inventory, shall we?
In the end I'm out 3 cakes (including one I bought for my boss after all was said and done), I didn't get deported, my boss now has a vested interest in keeping me around and in return I occasionally have to keep up a Christian facade. Alright, then. The moral of the story: Don't climb on roofs. Or something. I still have no clue what happened, or why, so maybe the moral of the story is do whatever you want, and there are no consequences except having to talk to incompetent police for a couple weeks. And you might have to buy a few cakes.
THE END until the next time i get arrested maybe
