Actually I was not hip-deep in Soju-caps at the time although I wished that I was. We just had a rule that any story that took place in Korea had to start that way… (credit EvilPidge)

         In reality I was driving down the back road from the An-jung-ni/Pyongtaek (the red dot) are north to Osan Air Force Base. Our trusty blue station wagon was taking the curves and dodging one-eyed buffaloes as well as ever when the radio started to fade out and the car lost power. I coasted her to a stop and pulled off the side of the road as best I could.

         As “luck” would have it we had pulled over on the most wretched smelling spot of road in the known universe! Right outside of Osan is a rendering plant you see, and let me assure you gentle reader that on this sweltering August day on the Han-pan-do it was a renderin’!

         Sharing in this aroma were Xtine, my daughter (no link, ever, you foaming predators), and DifferentHanja. Hanja and I take a look under the hood (as males are wont to do) and of course come up with nothing since we are retards. Fortunately we were retards who spoke passable Korean (his more so than mine) so we braved the stench and moseyed into the rendering plant to try and scare up some help.

         Being Korean guys they were only too happy to lend a hand to any white guy who even made the attempt to speak the language. Also being Korean guys they didn’t have anything like jumper cables in any of their vehicles. After much hand waving and rapid fire Korean they dispatch the youngest guy, (lets call him Kim), back to the office. A few minutes later Kim trots back out with something in his hand. On closer inspection we realize that he is in fact holding some speaker wire! One of the older guys, (lets call him Kim), hops into his Musso, cranks the engine, and pops the hood. While we look on in slack jawed astonishment, a third guy, (lets call him Kim), strips the wire with a knife and tells Kim to hold two of the ends on our battery terminals while Kim holds the other end to the terminals of the Musso! So Kim revs the engine, Kim and Kim both grimace in agony as they try and jumpstart my car, and Kim, me, Xtine, daughter, and Hanja all watch in amazement while the soft aroma of rendered whatever washes over us.

         The car didn’t start. They kept at it far longer than you might have expected but finally I convince them to just let me call the Osan Base towing guy to come and get us. I think they felt quite defeated. (or at least shocked).

There is another jumpstart story with one of our cars but I will let Xtine tell it if she can remember Ray the guy who did it.