Simple America

We entered the New York Club and the usual suspects were there. Bob the Bartender got us beers, I waved to the Kim sisters and noticed Miss Jin was behind the bar. She had not been there Sunday. A small wave of disappointment flushed through my brain when I saw the younger Kim sitting with a GI entertaining him. I had half hoped I could chat her up. But that was not to be and I would not dwell on it too long.

 

I thanked Bob the Bartender for my bottle of OB. It tasted good, nice and smooth. Then I felt a warm body press up against me and I turned to look Miss Jin in the eyes our noses almost touching. This was my first close look at her as she had been entertaining a GI the last time I saw her. Jin stood around five foot (152 cm) in height and I had to look down a bit despite sitting on the barstool. Her look was not typical of the Korean girls you might see in the Korean soaps. Her face was more egg shaped and her cheekbones did not have that high sharp definition. Dark brown cat eyes surveyed me like a predator and I was too dumb to flee. I loved the way her skin looked. It was tight flesh with a smooth dark clear complexion. She had a tan that a lot of American girls would have died to have, though I suppose Korean men may have found it quite unsightly. She was thin and flat but with refined curves. A long dark thick mane fell down her back reaching the middle of her back with beautifully glossy strands that I would love to get lost in.

 

“You buy me a drink, GI,” she asked as if I had a choice? Little did I know that I was being interviewed.

 

I looked at Bob and nodded my approval. When I looked back to Jin, she made the move that was more poisonous than that of any spider. Her lips pressed up against mine and there was no chance for me to flee, not that I wanted to. Where kissing Miss Park had been merely a pressing of mouth flesh, Miss Jin’s lips held a promise. She released me and I looked into her cold eyes. Eyes camouflaged by smile lines. Bob set her drink down and I gulped down some courage from my beer. Now I had a chance to examine her clothes. She wore a black knit top with a hoodie, jeans and tennis shoes.

 

“You got a Yobo?” The interview continued. Apparently I had passed the kiss test.

 

I looked back dumbly. My vocabulary did not include this word. “You got a wife or girlfriend,” Bob the bartender clued me in? “That’s what a Yobo is? A lover.”

 

I blushed and shook my head no to answer her.

 

“You eyes is pretty.”

 

I could not argue with her on that. My best feature by far and another test passed.

 

“You workie Yongsan?’

 

“Yep,” I replied.

 

“You MP?”

 

“No way.” I laughed a bit. My thoughts were she probably did not like the MPs or military police. But that was my own personal dislike I was ascribing for her. The MPs would come into the bars and harass drunken GIs, check their passes, and interfere with the fun. MPs were always at the gate when entering and exiting Yongsan. They would hassle me more because I had no pass, but I had orders that allowed me to go about. I would learn the reason for Jin’s question, but it would not be this day.

 

And then she kissed me again. Lips pressed firmly onto mine, my breathing stopped, my heart pounding and time stopped or did it speed away with my good sense. She released me and if my butt had not been planted on that barstool I would have collapsed to the floor. She downed her drink and moved off her stool. She glided away from me, the gravity pulling away from me. I took the opportunity to scope out her ass, flat like most Koreans. But I did not care I could not stop watching her. Jin went behind the bar and grabbed a record and placed it on the record player.

 

I looked away for a moment and there was Sarge and the Spec 5. They smiled and I responded with a sheepish grin of my own. “Hey we’re going to the Lucky Club and have a drink,” Sarge said. “We may come back when we head back to the hotel.”

 

“Sure thing Sarge,” I replied. “I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere soon.”

 

And they left me. But Sarge and the Spec 5 were cool like that. They had been around the block a time or two. Both had served in Viet Nam and that always created wisdom and afforded a certain amount of respect from me. I appreciated their absence and consideration.

 

Jin had the record working by now. It was Madonna’s Shining Star, though I had no clue who Madonna was and did not realize she did this song until the 90s. Jin came back to her seat and she sang along. The girl could not carry a tune in a bucket, but I did not care.

 

Bob set us up with another round of drinks. She had pulled her stool closer to me and she pressed her leg into mine. She hugged me pressing her flat breasts onto my arm. The cat eyes staring into mine as if looking for an answer, but that was a mask for the hypnotism that pulled me in. Jin worked me hard. If she only knew she had me at the first kiss.

 

“You live in Yongsan?” She watched waiting for my reply.

 

“No. No I don’t. I stay at the Crown.”

 

She looked back puzzled. And then she spoke to the elder Kim sister. A series of Korean hawks and spits went back and forth. Then Miss Kim asked, “You don’t live Yongsan?”

 

“No Miss Kim. I stay at the Hotel Crown.”

 

The girls looked at each other and spoke back and forth. Bob the bartender came over as it was quite a discourse.

 

“What are you doing here,” he asked?

 

“I’m working TDY at Yongsan. I’m stationed at Fort Huachuca. I do jobs like this all over the world. Going to be here a month or so.”

 

Bob the bartender repeated what I said to Miss Kim. What language was I speaking? How come they could understand Bob and not me? Then the girls had another verbal exchange. I thought somebody was pissed about something. As I became more accustomed to Koreans I realized that this was just a normal conversation.

 

“You live at Crown Hotel?” The words from Jin were pointed and the most hesitant thing she had spoken.

 

“Yep.” I swigged my beer as she sat there thinking. Watching me with those intense cat eyes.

 

“No Yobo?” Once more the question was asked.

 

“I don’t have anyone.”

 

“You want a Yobo? I be numbah hanah Yobo for you?”

 

Those dark eyes locked onto my blue eyes. She looked deep, deep beyond my soul. I blinked.

 

“Sure. You can be my Yobo.”

 

The words were spoken. Every test passed. Deal done. She shifted off her barstool and onto my lap. I was rock hard and she rubbed her flat butt all over my crotch. I could not breath and my mouth opened gasping, praying for oxygen to fill my lungs and keep me from passing out on that barstool. Jin’s eyes, calculating, looked and then her lips pressed against my mouth and her tongue thrust into my mouth. Entering, exploring, and dissolving all hope of stepping away. Where I had sought air, now I reached out with my own tongue parrying hers and exploring her mouth. My hands held her thin body, surprisingly solid for such a tiny frame.

 

And the night passed in a blur of Shining Star and passionate kisses. Jin was by far the best kisser I ever encountered in Korea. Most other Korean girls were mediocre at best. We were easily sitting around there for three hours. My hands explored regions forbidden, but promised for later. She had me so possessed. I could have sat her skinny ass on the bar and screwed her right there. All she had to do was give me the sign. I was ready and the world around me did not matter. Beers may have been drunk or just bought and forgotten. We only parted to play the ban-jo or if a customer needed a round of drinks.

 

At a quarter to 12 Bob the Bartender, the Kim sisters, and Jin went through the closing time rush. The patrons were rousted out and the place was locked up. This was my first time to see the curfew rush. Everyone hurried to get back to Yongsan or their hooch. Jin and I caught a cab. Destination Hotel Crown and a date with the winds and rains.