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| the blinking lights for room salons |
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[ 2009-12-25 14:17:00 | By: klmn199 ] |
pork restaurants wholesale coach purses were full of tables of red-faced patrons bellowing over masses of empty green bottles, and one karaoke room beckoned me with a life-sized photo of a Slavic-looking woman pulling up her dress, revealing an inviting, bare, chubby white ass. I looked around at the blinking lights for room salons and "booking" night clubs, while watching young men in shiny suits stand outside, puff on skinny cigarettes, and attempt to lure in attractive women.
I walked past some of the few remaining soju tents (pojang macha) in town, where customers clustered around oil heaters and downed grilled eel, complemented by the wholesale cheap gucci hondbags ubiquitous liquor. I felt the urge to join them, but before I knew it, I was at the main Yeonsan-dong intersection, a six-legged pinwheel choked with busses, taxis, and shiny black sedans. Koreans drive big cars for such a small country.
I descended the stairs into the cavernous wholesale discount purses station and entered that underground world that Korea does so well. Shops sold knock-off bags and skin cream (the cosmetic industry if off the charts here), pop music was piped in, and near the exits, a couple of leather-faced ancient-looking women sold bunches of sesame leaves, green onions, and mystery grasses, shoots, and stalks.
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