Birthday Shenanigans

I've had a special request to reiterate my birthday activities, so I will do my best to piece the events together.

Editor's Note: Names and identifying characteristics have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent and certain elements have been left out entirely...

I met up with a couple friends of mine in the early morning to catch the bus to Seoul. I had plans of roaming around the city and my two friends had plans of heading to jiu jitsu class. We parted on our merry little ways once we got to Seoul, with plans to meet up that evening.
I didn't really have a plan or destination. I just started walking and if a street looked interesting I would head down it. I walked all over the city and hiked up to the N. Seoul Tower, walked around a cathedral where there appeared to be a wedding taking place, went to a giant bookstore and basically ambled along through the streets and subway lines of Seoul.
I had plans to meet up with my friends at a foreign/Korean social gathering near a university district of Seoul. The meeting is held every month and it brings Korean people and foreigners living in S. Korea together to talk English. It helps the foreigners meet new people and gives the Koreans an opportunity to practice their English. Of course beer is involved.
I met up with my friends and then was immediately sat at a table next to two Korean women and an incredibly annoying guy from somewhere in the U.S. He introduced himself to me and didn't shut up all night. I kept trying to escape and move from table to table, yet he always managed to hunt me down.
He asked for my number and, attempting to pull my usual ploy, gave him faulty digits. He then tried calling me so "I would have his number." Crap. When he realized he wasn't calling my number, I had to pull the 'ole "What number did you call? Oh! You punched in a 9 instead of an 8." Damn. Now he's got my number. I did save his number under the pretense that if he did call or text I could avoid that call from "Obnoxious John" like the plague and not just answer blindly.
I ended up playing drinking games with a couple Korean women and a guy with an accent that I couldn't quite place and who spent way too much time at the gym and drinking Creatine.
The bar that was hosting the Korean/Foreign social club wanted us all out of there at 9:30 p.m. so we decided to take our party elsewhere. We ended up going to a restaurant that someone at the social club had called ahead. There was food already boiling in pots on the table and bottles of soju lining the tables. I was definitely not looking forward to the soju. It tastes terrible, literally like rubbing alcohol, and it gets you crazy drunk crazy fast. And don't even get me started on the hangover...
I was sitting next to my Irish friend, Bernie, and this girl can drink. She also knew it was my birthday the next day. So, naturally, we had to start celebrating now and then really get the party started at midnight. B and I were sitting in front of a few American guys who were stationed in Korea with the Air Force. the four of us decided drinking four shots of soju in a row was a really great idea. B and I then decided mutually that we should really slow down on the soju if we wanted to make it to midnight.
There were simmering pots of food in the center of the tables. There were mussels and floating pig skin. The skin is soggy and spongy and not the least bit appealing, so I stuck with the mussels.
During the "soju break-time" I moved down the table to talk to my friend, Jack. He's generally a quiet guy and he and I have had many interesting converstations about our experiences in Korea and elsewhere.
While chatting with Jack, the clock struck midnight and the entire restaurant stood up and sang "Happy Birthday." Quite unexpected to have all the patrons at a restaurant stand up and sing happy birthday to you in downtown Seoul. Then my friend, Simon, comes over to me, grabs me around the waist, smiles broadly and said it was time for "Birthday Bumps."
Huh?!
Six guys came over to me, grab various parts of my body and toss me up into the air... 28 times, once for each birthday. All I could do was laugh and scream as all the men counted up to 28 with each heave of my body into the air. Simon had been planning to do this the whole night and had quietly organized the "bumpers." I don't think they quite realized how heavy I am - I am most definitely not a petite Korean chick.
Thoroughly embarrassed, they set me down and I inquire about the health of their backs. I sit back down in front of Jack and B ends up joining us. We get back on the soju horse. It always sounds like such a great idea at the time.
We eventually run out of credit at the restaurant and decide to move on. "Obnoxious John" decides he wants to join us to our next destination. I want to go wherever he doesn't. There's six of us who plan our next move. We get in a huddle and decide our next party stop. Obnoxious John gets in a cab with a couple other people, we tell him a destination and then we get in a cab behind him and head to the other side of the city. Alcohol can bring out the asshole in everyone.
We get to the third and, thank god, final bar and order a 3-liter jug of beer. I took one swig of beer and immediately decided I was done. When I start getting dizzy and the world starts looking like a kaliedescope, it's time to call it a night. I had to close one eye to focus -- never a good sign.
I replaced the beer with water and the rest of the crew kept ordering more jugs, except Simon, he decided he was done, too.
It was about 2:30-3 a.m. when we got back on the subway, make a short pit-stop at KFC and made our way to the hostel Simon had so intelligently booked for the evening. None of the rest of us had made any plans for where we were going to stay that night - just figured it would all work out.
We get to the room and there is a keypad where we need to punch in a code to get access to the room. The code was 1,2,3,4, not too difficult to remember no matter what state you are in. Simon kept punching in the code over and over again, but the door would not open. Finally some very nice guy sleeping in the room opened the door for us.
The six of us pile into the room at about 3:30 in the morning, still drunk off our asses, while there are three complete strangers sleeping in the room.
We're stumbling along, trying to be quiet, obviously not being quiet, and make our way to any beds or floor we can find. There are three bunkbeds on the main floor and then there is a loft with three single beds.
I go climbing up the ladder to the loft and realize how hot it is up there and make my way back down the ladder. How I didn't eat shit down the ladder still amazes me.
There were only top bunks available, so B, Jack and I had to climb over sleeping travelers to get to the beds. B accidently dropped the backpack she was carrying from the top bunk and it made a loud crash. The chick sleeping on the bottom bunk of my bed yells "Jesus Christ!" sits straight up and smacks her forehead on the bottom of the top bunk. Then she yells, "Who's bag is that?!" We all fell silent, trying desperately to stifle our laughter.
The chick was not impressed with our drunken wake-up call. I had to sleep above this pissed-off woman and climb over her stuff to get to my bed for the night.
After shaking the metal bed sufficiently in the climb up to the top bunk, I finally peacefully passed out.
I woke up to two men talking and rummaging about the kitchen at an ungodly hour -- 10 a.m. The axe splitting my head suddenly reminded me why I should really stop drinking excessive amounts of soju until the wee hours of the morning.
I opened up one eye just enough to let a slit of light in. Simon and bottom bunk #2 guy were talking. Simon was entirely too chipper for this time of the morning.
I opened my mouth and I swear dust flew out. My raspy, dry voice said only one word... "Waahhter," and I outstretched one hand from the confines of the top bunk. Luckily the pissed off chick in the bottom bunk had departed for the day.
Simon laughed and said, "For you darling, anything." He placed a coffee mug of water in my hand and I brought the blessed necter of the Gods to my lips, sitting up as little as humanly possible.
One sip was all I could muster at that point as I laid back down on the pillow. I had to drink the mug of water in 15-minute increments. The severe altitude of the top bunk was just too much for my over-indulged state.
I was eventually laying in the fetal position around the mug of water, protecting it with every bit of energy and balance I could muster. After about three sessions of sipping I slipped back into unconciousness.
I awoke about three hours later to Jack exiting the shower. I was still wrapped around the mug of water. I rolled over and propped myself on one elbow and drained the remainder of the water into my shriveled body.
Luckily by this time of the day, the hostel was empty save for my friends and fellow over-served compatriots.
I took stock. I had lost my shirt somewhere in the room and was lying in my jeans and a tank top. I had no idea as to the whereabouts of my bag, camera, phone or coat. And there was a tender bump on my forehead. There was snoring and moaning coming from the loft and B was staring at me through slit and glassy eyes from the top bunk at the foot of my bed.
Everyone slowly departed from the loft and I made a couple comical attempts at descending the metal bunkbed ladder. I eventually located my coat, bag, camera, phone AND shirt in the loft. I had missed two phonecalls from my parents on this, my actual, birthday. I called them back attempting to piece together the evening's events. I would have to call them back after I looked at all the pictures.
The six of us eventually made our way out of the hostel the same way we came, stumbling along and fumbling under the weight of our belongings. Check-out time was 11 a.m., we finally crawled out after 2 p.m.
We headed to the subway to get to the "Wolfhound," an Irish pub in a section of Seoul called Itaewon. The jostling and over-abundance of bodies on the subway was an absolute joy. Our eyeballs looked like a roadmap and we were all sweating soju and Korean beer. Not a whole lot of talking occurred on that subway ride.
I had no idea where we were or where we were going. I just kept following the group of white people, holding on to various jackets and backpacks when necessary. We made it to the Wolfhound and praise all that is good in the world for Irish breakfasts served all day long. Eggs, hashbrowns, toast, beans (I don't even like beans), sausage and juice.
Some poor schmuck at the bar kept passing out on the bar. He was D-to-the-RUNK. Seems his party continued a bit longer than ours. He had a full, untouched Bloody Mary on the bar in front of him, but he was sitting on the bar stool, all alone, with his head on the bar. The poor little Korean waitress was trying to tell him to move on, but he wasn't budging.
Eventually, the waitress, the bartender and one of the patrons got him out of the restaurant/bar. However, as we were walking down the stairs from the Wolfhound to go back out into the street, the poor drunkard was fully passed-out in the corner of the stairs. We all snickered at his snoring in the hallway and walked out into the rainy Sunday afternoon in Seoul.
And that is how I partied way too hard in Seoul and ended up with a wicked, but totally worth it, hangover on my 28th birthday. But I still have no idea where the bump on my forehead came from...