Kim Jong-Il died yesterday and I am good with that. I wish the little bastard had died many years ago. I was in
when his Father Kim Il-Sung headed off to Hell. It’s a funny story. South Korea
I had left
early that morning headed down to Chinhae in the South. I had been listening to cassette tapes the entire way as I don’t speak or understand Korean so radio was out. As I pulled into the town of Seoul I went into a gas station to refuel and was greeted by the happiest Korean I had ever seen. I thought that he was happy to see that big American (Mi-guk) car pull in for gas. He was jumping up and down jabbering in Korean. I tried to explain that I didn’t understand him – but he just got more animated. The only Korean I knew (Sang mekju too-se yo) would get me a draft beer in Chinhae , but wasn’t going to help in this situation. Seoul
I was trying to get some damn gas, but my new ecstatic friend grabbed my arm and was trying to pull me into his station. I dutifully followed. I think (I’ll never know for sure) that he wanted me to hear the radio. Of course the announcer was speaking - Korean – I’m not sure why Mr. Gas Station thought that would help. What did get my attention though was that Mrs. Gas Station was sitting in front of a deep sink.
I must digress. I had been in
at this point for nearly a year. I was scrupulously careful to drink water only from a bottle in Korea . I had endured a bout or two with Kim Il Sung’s revenge, but had generally enjoyed good health even though I often ate and drank on the economy. So imagine my surprise to see Mrs. Gas Station perched on a stool in front of the deep sink next to a mountain of empty water bottles which she was cycling under the tap and then affixing a tamper-proof cap. (Note to International travelers: Don’t trust the cap) Korea
Anyway, still clueless as to why everyone but me was happy, I paid for my gas and extracted myself. With a fill-up I could get either a roll of paper towels or a bottle of water – I took the towels.
When I got to the base at Chinhae security was tighter than I had remembered even though everyone seemed very happy. When I got to my ultimate destination I was told that the Great Leader Kim Il Sung was dead. I’m pretty sure that was what Mr. Gas Station was trying to convey to me.
Kim Jong-Il – now that you are finally at room temperature yourself, good riddance. I for one am glad you are dead. Say “Hi” to your Dad for me you little communist prick. Imagine a world without Communists - how wonderful would that be?