So, this one night while getting my American fix for craft beers and fries we noticed a group of 4 dudes right outside this poppin’ pocha (포차). Original pochas are usually stationed outside along the street with these impossible-to-ignore red tarp coverings, dingy plastic tables and stools, usually an ajumma (아줌마, an older lady) serving anju (안주, food that accompanies alcohol), and generous wafts of soju (소주). This one, however, was indoors with mood lightning, sleek interior design, beautiful young people, and some fusion anju that definitely has cheese and is instagrammable. Still smells like soju, I guess.
Back to the 4 dudes. Tall, handsome, built, paid some attention to their hair, smoking and looking at their phones. They were clearly together, most likely trying to hookup with some girls. They were on their phones a lot, maybe DMing someone they met before to come out—and to bring her friends. I don’t know. What’s—or who’s—important was Mirror Guy.
Mirror Guy had slicked back hair; plain white, tight-fitted tee; basic denim jeans; and these god awfully loud, cowboy pointy boots. The way he stood and carried himself exuded self-confidence (or delusion). Chest-popping, shoulders wiggling to show his bulging muscles, leaning on one leg to show his triangle-figure. I think at one point he had his foot up on a step and elbows on his knees to showcase his blazing boots.
The moment they stepped out together, they took a mirror selfie (groupie?). It was cute. 4 dudes taking a photo of their boyz night out. Then they took out cigarettes and phones. Except Mirror Guy. He kept his eyes on the mirror. He would turn his head side-to-side and graze his jawline with his finger. He fixes his postures and does that t-shirt pull that guys do (where you pinch the shirt right between your breasts and do a little pull or tug to “reset” your shirt fit). The other dudes don’t notice. They just used to Mirror Guy being Mirror Guy? They put out their cigarettes and walk back in.
I order a second double IPA—pleasantly surprised by this one made in Korea—and continue chatting about Mirror Guy. I nurse my hoppy beer. Groups of girls, usually in pairs, take photos in front of the same mirror. They take a lot.
Then Mirror Guy comes out alone. He sees the groups of girls, lights his cigarette, walks behind them, and, I swear to god, checks himself out while the girls were taking mirror selfies. He fixes his hair, touches his jawline, straightens his posture, and does another shirt pull. Oh my fucking god, I almost spit out my beer. He didn’t even try to talk to the girls. So absorbed and immersed into his reflection.
One of his buddies comes out to, I don’t know, maybe keep him company? But let’s be honest, Mirror Guy would never feel lonely as long as he has a mirror. The two chat, smoke, check their phones, laugh, and go back in.
At this point, my night is already made. I’m enjoying beers with my fries and thanking God for Mirror Guy.
Then this motherfucker comes out again. He lights his cigarette and enjoys himself in front of the mirror. And people walk in-between him and the mirror because, well, why wouldn’t they? He doesn’t have a phone out taking pictures, so they don’t assume anything. But as strangers pass by, he adjusts his position, swaying and leaning to the sides ever so slightly, to see himself better. God, this guy. You can’t make this shit up.
Eventually, the dudes leave—no girls tagging along. One of them points down the street, probably toward their next destination. They walk away but not without Mirror Guy getting one last look. He smiles and catches up with his buddies.
I’m smiling, too, buddy. I’m smiling, too.
Featured Photo: The Great Gatsby (2013, film).
lee, sooho 