America Hell Yeah!

I have no pictures of this day so you will have to take a leap of faith and believe that this is not a work of fiction of my part.

On Sunday I went with four men I barely knew on a quest for Taco Bell. My friend Ki said he would sign all five of us into Camp Walker in order to sample my favorite trashy fast food. I knew two of the guys, Kyle and Jeff from a mutual friend and we realized how ridiculous this adventure was. Traveling cross town for a piece of taco shaped corn starch that costs under a dollar. Taco Bell was in my mind and nothing would keep me from my goal of 99c goodness. Ki signed us into the base (we had our S.O.F.A.S) and we walked up the dreary path to Taco Bell. After taco consumption we peaked inside the Px and this was when things turned a bit strange.

All of a sudden my friend Kyle turned to me and said 'Whoa, is that Scottie 2 Hottie?' I assumed this was a nickname for some friend of his or maybe a inside joke I was missing out on. I was wrong. Scottie 2 Hottie is a WWE wrestler most famous for doing the worm on his opponents chest. Kyle spoke too Mr. 2 Hottie with religious reverence. Soon enough we learned that there was a free eight round match on base in two hours. Not wanting to break Kyles heart we decided to go.

After killing two hours with cheap bowling we went to the gym. It was a small crowd, about 150 people. As I sat down I felt fear bubbling up in my stomach. What had I agreed to do? I couldn't sit through three minutes of pro-"wrestling" on TV and now I had agreed to a two hour live show? The worst part was knowing that I was truly trapped. Camp Walker rules state that the whole group must sign in and out together. I was trapped until Kyle lost interest which seemed as likely as a child losing interest in Christmas.

The eight rounds proceeded like a incomprehensible circus performance. I could never believe that after nine months in Korea the culture of my own country would be so foreign and repulsive to me. Barely clad girls wrestling and tearing hair, a clown fighting a disco king and a goth vampire fighting a man who played a caricature of the mentally handicap. I had hope that I would find the matches comical but unfortunately I couldn't even mock the players for fear of the fat drunken men next to me. I imagined they would turn on me at any moment. "Its that a english teacher?" they would yell and then the clown would chase me down and Scottie 2 Hottie would impale me on his perfectly gelled hair.

In the end I survived but as I left the base I didn't know which was up anymore. I felt so out of place in little America it was a relief to get cut off by old women in the subway line. I know it will be a bit difficult to readjust, knowing that everyone can understand me and having the knowledge that I can find anything I want at anytime. However I will be returning to the lovely Pacific Northwest where I doubt anyone will drag me to WWF.