October 22, 2011

11:52 PM

Location: Greenwich Village, New York City, New York

One of the best things about New York City, especially for young adults who are willing to work ridiculous hours, is that jobs are always available. What they tell you about unemployment is all false: there are jobs…those people are just unwilling to work them.

Take my night job for example. No, it’s not the most glamorous job in the world, not by a long shot, but it paid well because I worked from 11PM to 3AM. Everybody tells me that a college graduate who already had a nice, comfy day job like me shouldn’t be working as a bartender, but I’ve always hated being told what I could and could not do. That was one of the reasons I was here, in New York, away from my family and friends in Seoul.

Hello, my name is Cho Haena, and I'm 24 years old.

My family has always been well off, and my mother was always, ALWAYS on my case. Growing up, she told me how to talk, how to act, how to dress, what to eat, even who to be friends with. I had no control over my life at all, until I rebelled and told her exactly where she could shove her opinions.

From that moment on, I dressed to piss her off, I talked to piss her off, I acted to piss her off, and I made friends with whomever would make her mad the most. Then, after high school I had wanted to go study abroad, and she said no. So I did the exact opposite: I left on my own.

I had started working (illegally) as a bartender here at nights to help pay my way through college, but found that I rather liked it. After graduation, I had decided to stay in New York, and found a full time job as a freelance fashion photographer before being fully hired by Vogue Magazine. Even then, I chose to keep my night job, mostly because I really liked the people I had worked with for four years.

Mom had freaked out when I told her that I was staying in New York right after graduation. She freaked out even more when I admitted that I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to ever return to Seoul a few months ago. She finally promised to leave me alone when I returned, as long as I found a job there and fully supported myself.

If this had been 5 years ago, I would have probably tossed some careless profamities at her, and stayed. But it was time to stop being childish, because in the end, she was my mother. The reality was that my family was still in Seoul, and it was time for me to go back home.

Tonight was my last night working, since I was supposed to be boarding a flight to Incheon International in the morning. Vinny, my friend and boss, tried to tell me not to bother coming in to work tonight, but of course, that just meant I had to show up.

“Nana, if someone tells you not to jump off the Brooklyn bridge, would you do it just because they said not to?” he asked, shaking his head incredulously.

“I’m stubborn, not stupid,” I retorted.  

The club was packed since this was a Saturday night, and music blared over the dance floor. There were three seperate bars in this one club, bar that I worked was secluded, and the music was muffled slightly. Couples sat in the booths, some talking, some doing more. There were groups, and singles, all enjoying a moment of peace and a cool overpriced drink.

Emma was working the dance floor, taking drinks out by the tray. The nightclub math was simple. Louder music = more dancing = more sweating = more thirsty = more drinks = more money. By the time Emma returned, Vinny had whipped up another tray of drinks for her to take back out.

“It feels like 200 degrees out on that dance floor,” she muttered, picking it up. “I don’t even need to market these drinks, the animals practically fighting for them.”

“More money just means more tips and a large bonus for you,” Vinny shrugged with a grin.

“Yeah, if I don’t get heat and die,” Emma glared at Vinny, then turned to me. “That guy by the wall wanted a daiquiri, Nana. Could you get it to him? I need to take this tray out.”

“Sure,” I agreed, looking over.

In the corner was well dressed man in light colors: a white blazer over a light blue vneck shirt. However, he had a black beanie pulled over his eyes, and was obviously avoiding everyone else.

“He looks a little sketchy, maybe you should let me take this over,” Vinny said.

“I can handle myself, Vin,” I shot back, picking up the drink.

“There you go again,” he chuckled, and he was right. Whenever someone told me to do something, it was like waving a red flag at a bull, I had to do it.

Picking up the Daiquiri, I turned towards the table.

“Make sure you card him,” Vinny called. “It’s hard to tell from here, but he looks kind of young.”

I was 5 paces away when I realized that I wouldn’t need to card this man. Why or what he was doing in this nightclub at this particular time was a complete mystery, and I was taken back by his appearance for a second. He sat with his head slightly down, staring at his hands clasped in front of him on the table.

“My boss actually wanted me to card you,” I said in Korean, putting his drink down on the table with a clink. He looked up quickly, probably surprised to hear his native language. “Believe me, for you, that’s a good thing.”

In person, he was just as good looking as he looked on screen, if not more. His eyes, however, had a strange, strained look that I had never seen before on tv.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have my ID with me.” His eyes met mine intensely, and I could tell he was trying to figure out why and how there was girl who spoke perfect Korean. He crooked his head, as if trying find a place for me in this scene.

“Don’t sweat it,” I replied, giving him a small smile and turning away. “Park Jungsu doesn’t need an ID.”

“Did you card him?” Vinny asked, as soon as I got back to the bar. “I don’t want any trouble here.”

“He’s 28,” I told him.

“Wait, do you know him?”

Did I know Park Jungsu? Well, I guess, in a manner of speaking. Right before college exams, mom had forbade me from listening to too much music or watching too many tv shows. She wanted me to focus and study, so of course, I did the exact opposite. I immersed myself in kpop idols, and of course, that was around the time Super Junior just hit the market. 

“You can say that,” I replied with a dry laugh.

Suddenly, I wondered what he was doing here. I knew he was in New York City for a concert, but why here? In a nightclub at 1:00 in the morning when he was supposed to be rocking Madison Square Garden in less than 18 hours?

[A/N]: Yeah, Teukie...what the hell are you doing? :P