Who of you is the man? --- Korea (1)

We didn’t have a fight for a few minutes, so it’s not really something for the Connubial Bliss, plus, we’re in Heathrow, changing planes for our trip to JeJu, Korea. South Korea, that is, the place nobody dares to visit since the North is reiterating its prediction that it will throw “small nukes” if feeling annoyed by is ethnic neighbor much longer.

Heathrow airport

Everybody hates Heathrow (queues) but the shopping is supposed to be good, so we have to buy “Polo.” Polo, among other things, is a fragrance created by Ralph Lauren and used by Chang. A spunky duty-free sales-female takes charge first of Chang and then of yours truly as the mammal bond between the two homosexual travelers transpires. We’re apparently adrift in the wrong place and should follow her to the male section and get “something for men.”

(This is a bit overwritten, apologies.)

“We’re kinda girls,” I say ...

Us at Nice airport, in the morning, still sober

...having had already one glass of cheap Spanish wine at the Giraffe (I’ll explain later). So I say “we’re kinda girls,” and Chang, in an unpredictable yet obvious attempt to set the record straight, Chang adds that we are married under Dutch law. “You should get something for men, anyhow,” Chérie says (we call her “Chérie,” the spunky sales-female, since she resembles Chérie Blair, spouse of Tony Blair, the former PM, whose disastrous Iraq war celebrates its 10th anniversary this week). “Who of you is the man?” she asks.

A split second of contemplation. “We’re versatile,” I say, but she’s a bit low information on the language of gay dating sites, apparently, so I add: “we change positions, you know.”

POSITIONS, that’s a give-away. “YOU DO WHAT YOU LIKE,” she says, “IN BED, for as long as you buy something for men."
"In bed," I ask, "you think we do things in bed?"
"Yes."
"Doing things in bed is so yesterday," I say.
"Ohh," she replies.

“Can I take a picture of you,” I ask, “for my blog.” She’s pleased. She’ll ask the supervisor, who’s clad in politically-correct skin color. The answer is “no,” of course.

I didn't make this up.

We take a picture anyhow, the man it the foreground enacting the shop's paparazzi protection