Part Sun Tzu, Part 선수
"Hello?"
"Why'd you--"
(click)
Four, three, two, one...
(ring)
"What?"
"Listen, I--"
(click)
All around the mulberry bush the monkey chased the weasel...
(ring)
"..."
"I hope you know--"
(click)
This game is fun. This game is what it's all about, Cameron Radske reminds himself. In a few minutes he'll turn off his cell phone, but for now he lets it sit on his desk and vibrate in slow, buzzing circles with each ring.
It's like a petulant child, he muses, smirks: stopping after a minute or so and starting up again as soon as it catches its breath and remembers the reason for its tantrum. The caller, on the other hand, is nowhere near as interesting as her anthropomorphic extension, but that's just fine by Cameron. Vapid, materialistic, and -- best of all -- too young to know any better, Carrie (real name: 최가인) is a trophy of sorts. Sure, Cameron slept with her; slept with her the same night he met her, in fact; and while that was most certainly fun, a one-night stand or the subsequent sexual encounters they would have in the weeks and months after their first meeting has never been his goal, only a pleasant bi-product of the journey toward reaching it.
It's been nearly eight months, Cameron marvels as he removes the small Samsung battery from the back of the cell phone and lights a cigarette, putting the cell out of its misery for the time being and undoubtedly tormenting Carrie to no end. Three months was his previous record, before that two, and the high of nearly tripling his former achievement elicits not a smirk but an ear-to-ear grin.
This, Cameron tells himself, is what it's all about. This is why we play the game.
He knows the routine like he knows his multiplication tables up to five. First, she'll fruitlessly keep calling his cell. Next, she'll take a cab -- from Jamsil to Sinchon, no small fare that -- and go to all the bars he's known to frequent. And when that doesn't work, finally, she'll show up outside his apartment, standing in the rain like a retarded latchkey kid, banging on his door all night, crying.
Eight months! Cameron goes to the fridge, opens a bottle of MGD and drinks it down all at once, goes to the bathroom to take a piss, and then goes to bed. The crowd's applause is still echoing in his ears as he crosses the threshold into blissful sleep.
---
"Hello?"
"Why'd you send me that nasty text message? Hello?"
One, two, three, four...
(ring)
"What?"
"Listen, I bumped into your friend, Tony. Hello?"
(click)
Tony: "Sometimes Cam just gets like that. Don't sweat it. He probably had a bad day."
(ring)
"..."
"I hope you know I'm with Tony and--"
(click)
"That asshole!"
Tony: "Like I said, try not to let it bother you. Let's go have a cold one, take the edge off. Sound good?"
"Sounds fucking great."
(All around the mulberry bush...)
This game is fun. This game is what it's all about, Tony Burke reminds himself as he sidles up to the bar and orders two rum and Cokes. In a few hours he'll ask Carrie to come home with him, watch a movie before they fuck on his studio apartment floor, but for now he lets it all sink in. Cameron, you poor, stupid asshole.
"You think he knows about us?" Carrie asks demurely.
"Cam? Hell no! That dumb prick can barely count past twenty-nine. Trust me, you're not the first of his girlfriends I've slept with. In all honesty, you probably won't be the last. Don't you remember last Halloween when he went out to buy more beer and you gave me a handjob in the bathroom of Jason's apartment? We came out of the bathroom together just as he was getting back and that moron didn't even notice. I think it's safe to say that Cameron Radske has no clue whatsoever that you and I have been fucking for the past three months."
Three months! Home, Tony goes to the fridge, opens a bottle of Coors and drinks it down all at once while waiting for Carrie to exit the bathroom. When she does, Tony gives her a peck on the cheek, slaps her ass and says, "Sorry, but I'm too tired to screw you tonight, darlin'. Now you have something to look forward to when you wake up."
His own wit is still echoing in his ears as he stumbles into his bedroom and passes out, fully clothed.
---
Carrie Choi, PKA 최가인, doesn't have a body to die for, although she wishes she did. What she lacks in physical attractiveness, however, she more than makes up for in mental prowess. Cunning to a point as sharp as a laser, she feels her skills are being wasted. These ESL teachers are too easy, she scoffs as she heads underground and waits for the train to Wangsimni to arrive. She checks her bag to make sure she has everything: credit cards, debit cards, cell phones, address books...check, check, check, check. It's been a long night, but it was worth it.
Today she's going to rest, have some breakfast at the taxi restaurant before going home to sleep for four or five hours (if she's lucky). Tomorrow, it's off to Guam for two days and one night with her little sister, Yijin. The day after that? Back to Seoul. She has an appointment at a cosmetic surgery clinic in Gangnam. Chin, cheeks, breasts, and eyes.
(One, two, three, four.)
After that, the real grifting begins. It's been a long process, she knows, but to the winner goes the spoils.
---
"Hello?"
1 comment:
I've been on facebbok too much, I want an "I like" button.
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