Thanks for the Chocolate and Napkins

I’m going to tell you a story, that’s a little bit embarrassing and doesn’t really have anything to do with art. There’s a reason for it. It was horrifying at the time, but now it’s actually kind of funny.

I was once in a very bad relationship. This was when I lived in South Korea. I share some of the blame for why it was a bad relationship, and there are many deep, beautiful things I was able to make from the horror of all that it was. But today, I am not going to talk about those things. Because this story is not about how that particular relationships started.

This is the story about how it ended.

And neither I, nor the person with whom I ended the relationship are the main characters in this story.

But definitely somebody’s crazy definitely played a supportive role.

…but I digress.

I was in a restaurant on the last day that I would consider myself attached to this person. I didn’t want to be in a restaurant, to be fair. I had ended this relationship a week before, and the other person was convinced that she could convince me to stay together (as she had done in the past) if she met me face to face one last time. I think she thought it would be harder for me to break up with her if we were in public. She probably thought that if she ordered dinner for us (even though I had already eaten) and got us both a glass of water (even though I wasn’t thirsty), that it would be a very very hard thing for me to say I didn’t want to be with her anymore.

And she was right. It was difficult and awkward to end a relationship in a restaurant, in South Korea, with two plates of food, two glasses of ice cold water, and quite a few people that could serve as witnesses. It was difficult. It was awkward.

But not impossible.

I had written her a letter. It was often hard for me to discuss serious issues with this person. She had a way of twisting my words, and not letting me finish explaining my side. At this time in my life, I hadn’t quite figured out terms like “emotional abuse,” or “gaslighting,” which totally would have made my letter shorter.

Actually, that probably would have made the relationship a lot shorter too.

So, she reads my letter, and begins to realize that the restaurant, witnesses, and two plates of (admittedly delicious) Korean food would not be enough to deter this breakup. I feel like my letter was pretty balanced in tone (I was as wrong for her as she was wrong for me), but she decided to take it personally. Aaaaand she decided to go out with a bang.

And I’m guessing that one glass of ice water was not enough.

So, she stood up, loudly declared that I was a jerk and a child, and proceeded to show me how much more mature than me she was by throwing her glass of water in my face. After that, she immediately picked up my glass of water and threw it in my face as well, turning her heel on her complicated, expensive shoes and strutting out of my life.

I knew we would both be better off.

But it was very public. And I was in shock. And I was also cold, and very wet.

I just sat there, examining my life, as water dripped down my nose, into the collar of my shirt, and onto the food I didn’t want (but was apparently paying for). I spoke enough Korean by that time to know that everyone in the restaurant was talking about me. I sat and I contemplated.

I felt a tapping sensation on my shoulders and back, which took my out of my spongy brooding. When I looked around to see what was going on, I realized that two older ladies who were seated at a nearby table had come over to me, and were patting down my head and shoulders with napkins from their purses. I really didn’t know what to do with myself at all during that time. I was still in shock, and so they just continued to do it. When I was much dryer, one of the women placed a large wad of napkins in my hand, and the other one gave me a piece of chocolate that had obviously been in her purse for quite some time.

“Sorry …about that.”

It was very obvious to me that these two women were not comfortable speaking English, but seeing that I was foreign, the woman who chose to speak to me was doing whatever she could to make me feel a little bit better. This scene that had just played out before had happened in English. For all they knew, I could have been a lousy human being who absolutely deserved not one, but two glasses of water right to the face in a crowded restaurant.

But not knowing the whole story didn’t stop them from helping me. I will remember them forever.

Getting up to pay for the meal, I spoke to the owner of the restaurant (who definitely saw the whole thing). As I handed over my card, he looked me in the eye and asked 괜찮으세요? (Are you okay)?

괜찮을거예요 (I will be). That was my response. And I truly knew that I would.

I think that I probably would have been okay, even if no one helped me that day. My life wasn’t in danger. I had a supportive community, and there were lots of people that helped me cope with the aftermath of that relationship. But I will forever be grateful to the real characters that this story was about. Those two strangers who cleaned me up, and gave me chocolate. And the restaurant owner who asked me if I was okay. These were not impossible things to do. They cost nothing but time. I do think it’s rare though.

As I’m watching the news lately, I wonder what would have happened if the situation had been reversed.

I repeat that I wasn’t in any physical danger. I was suffering from nothing but embarrassment, though I probably wasn’t the one who should have felt embarrassed, if I’m being honest. But there was this support from total strangers.

As I watch the news in the US, and I see countless Asian-American and Pacific Islander people being attacked, I keep wondering about the people that see it happen. Where are the old ladies with chocolate and napkins? That person taking the video… why don’t they stop and see if that person is okay? I know that having a record is important, but I don’t think it’s the same as compassion.

America calls itself the land of the free. But if we can’t stand up to bullies… are we really the home of the brave?

So, to those two ladies in that restaurant halfway across the world from where I’m typing this tonight: Thanks for the chocolate and napkins. Thanks for reminding me what to do when I see someone in pain.