I'm the Seinfeld of Korea and my lunch is like airplane peanuts

What's the deal with Korean school lunches?

I'm going to stop there because although I know how Jerry Seinfeld famously starts his jokes, I have no idea how he ends them nor do I have the skill to do so in a way to make 1 billion people laugh and throw money at me for the better part of a decade (and then ruin it all with some movie involving bees or some such). Suffice it to say that I do not like Korean school lunches and I find them a nuisance. You may laugh now. And throw money at me if so inclined.

My school lunches typically include a vegetable, meat and a hearty soup, followed by a tasty desert. Of course that's in a Korean context so it should read; some greyish-green mush boiled to even greyer mush, fish bones (including heads with eyes) sometimes with meat accidentally still left hanging on, spicy hot water (sometimes with fish bones, heads and eyes) and a random food item that Satan himself would never consider coating with sugar with copious amounts of sugar on it. Oh, and of course rice. You know, rice is to a cook as a word search is to an English teacher. Yeah, that'll work today as I sweat off this hangover. Except no English teacher would give word searches everyday. Three times a day. For their entire lives. And then claim it cures AIDS. Don't forget kimchi, too. How could I, what with this burning ulcer. But as my latest medical check confirms, I don't have AIDS and to my knowledge I never have, so maybe kimchi and rice really do work. And since I've never had cirrosis of the liver I should continue to drink several glasses of whiskey a night.

The food I could handle. The conversation I could not. After 14 months of eating with the same Korean teachers in the same room the same questions still came my way. We've all heard them before. Yes, I can use chopsticks. No, it's not too spicy. Yes, I like kimchi. Of course it cures cancer, I'm a man of reason! Yet still I could endure these inanities. What I couldn't withstand was the daily inquisitions. What did I have for dinner the night before? Laughter. What did I have for breakfast? Laughter. What will I have tonight for dinner? Retarded, retarded laughter. A ham sandwich has never before been so hilarious. And you know, fine. But for 14 months? I'm really not that interesting. The ham sandwich might be, but I'm sure not.

Finally I said enough. I made up some story about my doctor cutting spicy food out of my diet and removed myself from the lunch gatherings all together. Of course there were no questions about that. But still the daily interviews exist. What did I bring for lunch? When will I eat it? How did I make it? Did I enjoy it? What will you bring tomorrow? And every time it's laughter. Comedians would kill for this kind of easy reaction. I would kill to make it stop. Some might find it charming that they care so much. I should remind them that it's been a year since I stopped eating with them. Last week all the subject teachers went out for lunch together. The food was pre-ordered and I had no say in the matter. Jae-yook dok-bap was selected for me and everyone else had binbimbap. Hey, I'm pleased that someone actually listened to me and chose something I would marry if I could (and will once prop 13 passes. Yes on 13!) As they all sat there grazing on their bowls of messy veggies and egg in unison the comments started leaking in and heads started to slowly explode. Apparently I don't like vegetables and love pork. Isn't it too spicy? Chopsticks?! YOU KNOW KIMCHI!!!! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahha....etc.

I should be happy. In any disagreement with any school official I just have to mention what I ate for lunch and it will turn into a Must See TV yuk-fest in the room. But much like Seinfeld, I just don't get it.