Last Night at the Café

3 | White Grape Beer

THEY SAT IN a little hole in the wall restaurant, one of the few occupants at that hour. Raucous laughter occasionally broke out around them from groups of students out for a late bite and drinks.

"My treat," she declared when the pot of budae jjigae was placed between them.

The army stew bubbled merrily with its combination of instant ramyeon, tubular rice cakes, fish cakes, sliced spam, kimchi, mushrooms, sausages, cheese and an abundance of spring onions. The dish was so named for the inclusion of American processed meats that, during the food-scarce period of the Korean war, had been surplus from American military bases stationed in Korea to supplement food shortages. It was a simple, fusion dish, popular as comfort food. The aroma of the spicy sauce tickled her nostrils but warmed her belly and she picked her utensils up in anticipation.

They sat facing each other, perched on red stools. 

"I'm older than you," he said. "I should be treating."

"I suggested grabbing food so I'm treating," she returned swiftly.

Then she stuck an arm out in the air.

"Samcheon!" she called out. "One beer and one grape juice!"

"Beer and grape juice?" Kazu repeated, one brow raised in amusement. "You really have a sweet tooth."

"What about you? Do you want soju? Anything else? Can you drink well?"

She was chattering more than usual. Was he really here, sitting across of her? Here, in the flesh, with his kind smile and his bright eyes?

"I'll have the same as you."

She turned about.

"Make it two, please!"

When the stall owner returned with her order on a plastic tray, she poured a measure of beer into each glass followed by a generous helping of grape juice. The pulp of whole grapes tumbled into the glass, splashing wildly against the sides. It was custom to pour for someone older than them, and so she handed his glass to him with both hands.

"I named it bong maek," she said in reference to the name of the little can of juice as she handed him his drink.

Kazu clinked his glass against hers, then turned aside to down it.

The drink was cold and sweet, sending little fizzle pops down her throat.

"Ah, this hits the spot," she murmured, her head tilted to the ceiling.

Their supper bubbled merrily on the portable stove between them. Kazu was stirring the slice of cheese in, his brow knitted as if concentrating on some important task.

She grew silent as she cast him another glance.

Was this a good idea in the first place?

She chewed meditatively on a slice of spam. Maybe she shouldn't have asked him out after all. Dark circles lined his eyes and he'd been yawning his head off earlier. If anything, he could do with more sleep. In the first place, did people like them - a customer and the manager of a cafe - ask each other out in the first place?

"I'm sorry," she blurted. "Jieun says you work morning to night every day. I hope I'm not taking up your time."

His eyes flew to hers in surprise.

It was odd to be sitting across of him, to see him hunker down on a stool, his shoulders hunched as if he were trying to fit himself to the table. His long legs straddled the tiny table on either side, she kept her own feet tucked away to accord him the space.