RSL Ch 51

She dropped her luggage off at the front desk and headed straight out the door, ignoring the fancy restaurant under the hotel and dragging me to a franchise restaurant. Food is very expensive in Iceland, and I would have felt very uncomfortable if she had gone into the hotel restaurant. I would have had to insist on paying.

The idea of treating myself to something I could afford seemed good. I ordered a simple mussel dish and soup.

“How is Korea? I’ve considered it since it’s one of the few countries that hire foreign pilots for national airlines.”

“Employment can be a bit unstable. But if you look at the salary, it’s not bad. Qatar must have good conditions too.”

“It’s the opposite here. They put more pressure on foreigners. Maybe it’ll get better once I become a captain.”

“Yes, it definitely gets better.”

She had a bright smile that lifted the corners of her mouth. When she ate, she covered her mouth with her hand, revealing well-manicured red nails. She didn’t drink alcohol and sipped sparkling water instead. She was quite articulate.

“…So the captain finally lost it and yelled at me. ‘You idiot, hit the brakes! The brakes!’ Hahaha.”

“Maybe the ABS (Anti-lock Braking System, one of the types of brakes) wasn’t working?”

“It was. I just failed while trying to control the speed with the power.”

“In that case, it’s fine to deploy the spoilers first. If there’s enough runway length, it’s more stable to brake than using the thrust reversers.”

“I’ll try that next time. If I get another chance, that is.”

“Landing is difficult for everyone. Don’t be too discouraged.”

She smiled gently at my words.

We chatted for quite a while. Eventually, the restaurant was closing, and the server came to ask us to settle the bill. She glanced at the clock on the wall, took out her wallet, and paid the bill.

After getting her credit card back, she stood up first. I was about to get up to thank her for the meal and say goodbye when she suddenly approached and placed her hand on my shoulder, pushing me down slightly as if telling me to stay seated. She then leaned in and whispered in my ear.

“Room number is 803. I’ll be here until tomorrow, and I don’t go to bed before midnight.”

With a floral scent, she leaves the room. She glanced back at me as she walked out the door. She smiles a meaningful smile when she realizes that my eyes are still on her. On the table was the credit card receipt she had left. Instead of a name, the number ‘803’ was scrawled in the signature line. I chuckled to myself.

The server who had processed the bill gave me a sideways glance, observing my actions. I sat there for a moment, pretending to ponder. After a few minutes, watching the now empty street outside the restaurant, I slowly stood up. Ignoring the server’s suggestive smile as she greeted me, I walked in the opposite direction of her hotel. All that remained on the table was a pile of card receipts that had lost their purpose.

* * *

-Do you regret it?

That was his first reaction. When I got back to the hotel and called him, I had to explain why I had gotten in later than expected and explain what had just happened. Han Jae-yi wasn’t angry; he was more sulking, which is why he asked if I regretted it. He seemed to think I’d feel that way.

-If the time and place are right, it’s the best nightlife you can have.

“Do I look like the kind of guy who’d be making out with you in the car a few days ago and then sleep with a stranger today because I’m desperate for excitement?”

-I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it. We’re practically strangers when it comes to sex.

He was blurting out anything he could think of. Maybe he was jealous. When I thought about it from his perspective, it seemed likely.

“Don’t worry. I’m not that desperate. Just take care of yourself.”

-What if we weren’t together? Would you have gone then?

He pressed the issue, clearly fishing for a specific answer.

If it was me a year ago, I would have gone. I didn’t have a girlfriend, and there would have been no reason to refuse. If it were today, assuming Han Jae-yi and I weren’t together, I wouldn’t have gone. I probably would have been sulking alone in a hotel room.

“I wouldn’t have gone.”

I told him what he would have wanted to hear. He cleared his throat. Damn long-distance relationships. He muttered to himself, not clear who he was talking to. It was kind of cute.

The next day, he called me early every evening. Sometimes he was on his way home, sometimes he was still in the office. Then, on the last day of my trip back to Korea, he left the company.

Once back from my trip, things got hectic. With two days of vacation left, I returned to Korea only to find Han Jae-yi’s belongings starting to pile into the apartment. Boxes he had shipped started stacking up neatly in his room.

As I looked at the new bed still in its packaging and the desk he used, I pondered. Even if we lived together, we’d each need our own rooms. I sweated for the first time in a long time as I rearranged the haphazardly stacked furniture. I stocked up on rice and beer.

It was my first day back to work after my vacation and I felt the heat of the Korean summer. The stifling humidity made me realize that it’s true what they say about not being able to live without air conditioning. Even the short walk from the parking lot to the airport terminal made me sweat. I quickly entered the staff room at Gimpo Airport. Today, I’d be paired with Co-pilot Jeon Seong-wook after a long time.

“It’s hot, right? I heard you went on vacation, but you didn’t get much of a tan?”

“Yeah. It’s a cool place, even in the summer. Mr. Co-pilot, how did your simulation go?”

“It went well. I’ve earned half a year again, haha.”

There was still some time before the full briefing. We discussed the flight plan briefly and spent the remaining time chatting about personal matters.

He was trying to decide on a name for his soon-to-be-born child. He said he had several candidates and asked me to cast my vote. I doubted they’d actually choose by majority vote, as the couple would likely go with whatever name they liked. He just seemed to enjoy the process. I cast my vote for number 2.

Jeon Seong-wook mentioned that he was living alone these days. His wife, who was about to go on maternity leave, had gone to her parents’ house. With long-haul flights, he’d be away for days at a time, so he couldn’t be there to take care of her. He said it was both good and lonely.

“It’s nice to get a good night’s sleep at the end of the flight, but I wake up the next day feeling lonely. What do you do on your days off, Captain?”

“Hmm… I mostly rest. I read books and such.”

“You have such refined hobbies. Play with me too sometimes.”

“Sure. If I’d known you were alone, I would’ve reached out.”

“We should get drinks sometime, the three of us, with Min-woo. I haven’t heard from him lately about what he’s been up to.”

Oh, wait, I forgot to mention something. Co-pilot Cho Min-woo was good friends with Co-pilot Jeon Seong-wook. I couldn’t explain our awkward relationship, nor should I. As I hesitated over what excuse to use, Co-pilot Jeon pulled out his phone. True to his decisiveness, he quickly sent a message to the group chat we had.

His message, suggesting we find time to grab a drink, appeared on my phone screen. I checked the chat; the last person hadn’t read it yet. Even as we prepared for our flight and our phones were completely turned off, there was no response from him. I felt bad, but it wasn’t something I could resolve.

* * *

Han Jae-yi and I had a bit of a scheduling conflict. I had a flight back to Seoul on the same day he was flying into Korea. The problem was that we were arriving at different airports. Since I would arrive a little earlier, I offered to pick him up, but he said it wasn’t necessary. He reasoned that whether it took an extra hour or ten, it didn’t matter as long as we ended up at the same place.

After arriving in Bangkok, I revisited the hotel I stayed at last month with the crew for a one-night stay.

Jeon Seong-wook and I decided to have dinner with a few people we knew from across the street. Coincidentally, they were all men. I guess it’s still awkward to get along with people regardless of gender. Or maybe it’s just to avoid misunderstandings.

Two flight attendants, myself, Co-pilot Jeon Seong-wook, and another Co-pilot who had been on the flight since yesterday, went to a local restaurant. The three of them were married, me and the flight attendant were single, and the conversation that began was a bit of a shock.

“…So, I asked what options they had. I thought ‘options’ in a massage place meant choosing the type of oil or something, but the staff asked if I wanted to add a ‘happy ending.'”

“Happy ending? Like, a real… hahaha.”

“So, did you add it?”

“I asked how much it was. Then they asked me to choose another option.”

“Like, with hands or mouth, or what?”

“Hahaha, no, I thought so too. But the clerk asked, ‘Male or Female.'”

“What? Really?”

“Come on, it’s Thailand. They have to ask; people have preferences. So, what did you choose?”

“Oh, I didn’t choose anything. I just said I’d only have a massage today.”

“But they asked that in a normal massage place?”

“Yeah! The sign looked normal. Anyway, the massage was really good. I’m thinking of going back.”

I had been silent, unable to join in the conversation. They were crossing the line of what colleagues should discuss. I felt very uncomfortable but tried not to show it. I sipped my lukewarm water and let their conversation pass me by, occasionally glancing in the direction of the kitchen to see why my food wasn’t coming.

“No, but they must be really open-minded here. Did you turn on the TV in the hotel? There’s gay porn on the pay channel. Wow, c’mon, I’m so freaked out, hahaha.”

“I went to a club in Bangkok before I got married, and there was someone who looked like a real celebrity. I thought she was gorgeous, but then she spoke, and it was a man’s voice.  A real culture shock.”

“Yeah, it’s less nowadays, but a few years ago, if you went out at night to the nightlife, they’d chase you around saying, ‘oppa, oppa.’ They even spoke Korean pretty well.”

“No, Mr. Co-pilot, did you fly and go clubbing? This is not going to work. Does your wife know?”

“Before I get married, before I get married.”

“Then can I go, since I’m still single?”

“The captain is single too, take him with you.”

“Oh! Captain, shall we have a wild night tonight?”

“Oh, no, I’m fine, the food is out, Mr. Co-pilot, there’s food in the back…”

I stuttered in surprise as the conversation suddenly turned to me. Luckily, the waitress was standing behind me with my order, so I was able to change the subject quickly. The others didn’t seem inclined to dwell on the topic and smoothly transitioned to discussing Thai cuisine.

I joined in the occasional toast and answered the usual questions about how things were in Germany. The lively chatter among the men continued, but it was a somewhat tedious time for me.

They enjoyed sharing stories, comparing Koreans and foreigners, Asians and Westerners, Seoul and the provinces, men and women. And inevitably, they asked about blood types. I don’t know mine, which always drew exclamations of disbelief. They couldn’t understand how I could not know my blood type, but I simply responded that I’d lived 30 years without needing to know, and nobody believed me.