You know the presence of a fly? This annoying buzzing that surrounds you, just when you need to concentrate and focus. Then you swipe your hands around to attempt to eliminate the distraction, but only end up grabbing at air? This morning I must've been dealing with a pretty peculiar fly because it simply would not leave me alone!
My name is Iseul Kim and recently I've encountered "a fly". I was assigned to a project where I assist a younger attorney of the company with her case as her co-counsel. Her name is Jiwon and she can ask me questions regarding the case as well as ask me to help her out with some tedious legal tasks. I usually wouldn't mind helping her out, but her client is sticking to me like glue…
Her big brown eyes are fixed on me as I work and it's making my usually perfect concentration, a distracted, disconnected understanding of the task I have left to do. Like a college student attempting to do their own chores… why do I feel so conscious of myself?
"You have 30 minutes, and then I'll have to get back to work…"
I begrudgingly accepted Ms. Hwang's offer to eat lunch with her. She seemed like a tough client to deal with. I didn't want to spend more time around her if I didn't have to, but I did not have the energy today to continue this argument. She was a fierce competitor and I had a feeling she wasn't the type to give up easily. I should've just taken the day off. Go play with Jiwon, I have work to do….
Ms. Hwang broke out in a victorious smile. I'm so screwed…
I reluctantly follow behind the young CEO to a nearby sit-down resteraunt. It's a shorter walk than you would think, but it felt much longer. I can't imagine why someone would be so interested in… me?
She led me down a brightly, colored alley into a well-lit establishment at the end of the road. The streets around were kind of deserted, but the cheerful sounds from the inside of the resteraunt seemed to silence at least the loudest doubts. Opening the door with her left hand, Ms. Hwang ushered me inside and closed the door behind me..
The inside of the resteraunt was sizably crowded and ornately decorated with orange, red, and yellow paper lanterns that hung freely from the low celings. The tables inside were solid black, with each squared into a booth. I studied Ms. Hwang's face. Her taste in eating out rather atypical, wasn't it?The last time I got dragged to eat out by my colleagues, we dined at a stoic Italian bar that was surrounded by others in our pay-range. This place seemed so lively and… lived in.
Ms. Hwang flags down a waitress to find seats for us. Even the waitress seemed lively: she smiled from ear to ear as she led us to an isolated booth near the back end of the resteraunt. Here, the lighting was less intense than at the front of the restaurant, and the overall atmosphere seemed lighter. A window was hollowed out and dressed in light blue curtains; from there you could see the late evening crowds of Seoul, and the clustered clouds that hovered over the shoulders of the city-goers.
I turn my attention back to Ms. Hwang and caught her staring intently at me. The sudden, intense staring contest catches me off guard and I suddenly begin to study the menu very carefully. Why do I feel so flustered? It's just eye-contact… I suddenly feel like a witness on trial with a hundred eyes all staring at me; except it's not a hundred eyes, but rather a pair of two persistent, milky-brown eyes.
"Do you know what you're going to order?" She asks me: her voice, smooth and gentle.
"I'll probably order a single-serving of jjolmyeon. What about you, Ms. Hwang?"
I likely would've ordered something in a chilled broth but there was a slight breeze in the air and I didn't want to risk catching a cold. My immune system got the reputation for being weak after I had gotten sick in summer for sleeping with the fan on.
"I really enjoy the mul naengmyeon. It's a classic, but they do a really good job with the broth. I keep coming back here…" She opens up to a few of her experiences with cold noodles and it feels as though she seems more comfortable with me.
"Can I call you Iseul? You can call me Yerim." She asks, while dropping formalities. I feel slightly taken aback, but I was too hungry to fight her on this. I nod, while slowly chewing my noodles. The taste is perfection!
Every piece of the noodles are embraced in a thin blanket of creamy sauce. Every bite came with its own entendre of meat and spices, which lead to a delicious bite each time. I was in noodle heaven.
"That good, huh? Well these aren't called the 'fall in love noodles' online for no reason…" Ms. Hwang.. No, Yerim, mutters under her breath. I suddenly feel the urge to choke on this perfectly developed morsel of perfection.
You're not slick. You little…