“I don’t know about that.” I’m on my third can and the buzz is feeling good. My feet aren’t aching and I no longer smell like dirt and sweat—or maybe I do but the beer buzz is covering it up. I also don’t know how rich Yujun is, and does it matter? It’s not like I’m going to be affected by his social position. We’re enjoying each other’s company. A voyfriend’s social status is irrelevant because it doesn’t affect you in real life. I finish my cone and break open another beer.

“I thought my story was tragic,” Jules says, reaching for the last of the beer. “Foreign girl falls in love with local boy only to be replaced by a local, but yours trumps mine. You come here and find out your real old man has kicked the bucket but he’s also a turd, spreading his sperm around like he’s some kind of farmer during the planting season.” She tips her beer can in my direction. “Congrats.”

I can’t even be angry at this summary. It’s only the truth. I clank my beer against Jules’s. “Thanks.”

“I should’ve known when he never introduced me to his parents that it was going nowhere. It means something here in Korea.”

“Isn’t that a big deal in America, too?”

“Not like here. Here it’s basically a sign he’s going to marry you. I knew one Korean girl who didn’t even learn her boyfriend’s parents’ names until he proposed.”

“Well.” I drain the rest of my beer.

“I know. This is a sign.” She leans forward.

“Of what? That we’re out of beer?” I set down my now empty can.

“No. That we should both leave Korea behind. There’s got to be better countries with better stories for us. I opt for New Zealand.”

“Why there?”

“Because everyone’s nice there. Even their birds are flightless.”

I am buzzed enough that this makes sense. “Okay. New Zealand it is.” I stand up. “But first, let’s have another beer.”

• • •

IT’S DARK WHEN we arrive home. At some point, I remembered that alcohol was a depressant and stopped drinking. Jules, however, declared that coming down off her buzz would be a mistake and moved from beer to soju, downing the potent rice wine like it was water. She totters on her wedges as we climb up the hill. I have one hand attached to Jules’s elbow to keep her from falling and the other holding a six-pack I no longer have any interest in drinking. I had second thoughts at the convenience store, but when the irritated clerk snapped something at me in Korean while I counted out coins I found in the bottom of my purse, I decided the beer was a necessity I could not live without. In retrospect, buying something because I was mad at the clerk doesn’t make any sense, but I was determined to pay for my beer.

“He doesn’t like your coins,” Jules informed me in an overly loud voice.