“Koreans really are everywhere. Did I tell you my friend saw a Korean restaurant in some remote village in Iceland?”
“Great, so even the Koreans in Iceland will get the news.”
“Have fun, Jules. It will all be fine. You’re looking at it from the what-could-go-wrong perspective. But who knows? You could end up talking to the love of your life tonight.” Rachel couldn’t hold back her giggle. “Call me tomorrow and give me the rundown.”
“Thanks, Rachel. Wait. We’re not gonna set up some text alert if it’s going awful and I need you to rescue me?”
“That’s so ten years ago. You can download apps to do that for you now. Okay, gotta run. Love you!”
“Bye.”
Julia stared at the screen for a second longer, trying to remember her best friend’s smiling face, an expression of confidence in Julia that she wouldn’t mess this up in the afterimage.
“Hey, boss, I’m taking off. I put the directions to the restaurant into the GPS in your car. Just pressroute 1. Oh, and hold these just in case.” Annette passed Julia two capsule pills.
“What are these?”
“They’re diuretics. Will give you the shits within minutes. If the date’s going bad, take both, grab your stomach, give a slight groan, and tell him you have to go because you’re not feeling well.”
“Um, why can’t I just pretend to have the stomachache without taking the pills? Won’t I be stuck driving home desperate for a bathroom?”
“Yeah, but it’ll make for a better story tomorrow for you to tell me. I’m already cracking up thinking of you squeezing your butt—”
“Annette!”
“What? Don’t take the pills, then. Fine. It was just an option. Sheesh. Okay, have fun. Don’t be weird. It will be fine. Bye.”
It was just dinner. Dinner with a total stranger. Dinner with a total stranger she knew nothing about and who had the power to embarrass Julia and shame her family name for the rest of time.
What ever could go wrong?
Julia called it.
Traffic on the 10 freeway heading east was a nightmare. In Los Angeles it didn’t matter what day of the week, it often didn’t matter what time of the day, the 10 was going to be bad. Andalways, without fail, when you were trying to get somewhere by a certain time.
She arrived at the restaurant by seven fifteen, but there was no parking. This was clearly one of the newer, trendier places in K-town, and every Korean under forty within LA proper who fell into a certain income level was trying to get into the tiny parking lot of this small strip mall. She found a parking garage a block away and hustled to get to the restaurant. It was 7:26. Shit.
She walked in the door and immediately realized she had no idea what Michael Lee from Fullerton even looked like. Why hadn’t she suggested he wear a blue sweater and have a book with a rose on it sitting on the table? As she scanned the uncomfortably packed restaurant, Julia could swear she felt the breath of every patron and employee mixing in the air and settling on the fibers of her clothing. She shivered in disgust. Too many people in one small space.
Her eyes finally settled on a man sitting by himself, looking incredibly impatient. Bingo.
“I’m so sorry I’m late. I really do think seven thirty would have been a better time for us to meet. The traffic was just—”
“Dangshin, who is this girl?”
Julia looked up to see a woman standing next to her looking down as if she wanted to tear her to shreds. She looked over to the startled man sitting at the seat across from her.
“I don’t know. She just sat down and started talking about traffic. Miss, I think you’re in the wrong—”
Julia stood up quickly. “I’m so sorry. Case of mistaken identity. Please forgive me.”
Julia walked away, mortified.
A hand suddenly grabbed her arm, and Julia jumped and screamed, “I take kickboxing!”
A few heads turned as she whipped around to see who grabbed her. “Julia? Are you Julia Song? I’m Michael.”
“Michael. Oh my God, I’m so, so sorry. The traffic. And that man was sitting alone. And it’s so busy in here. And I didn’t know what you looked like.”
