The one time that I went to Pizzeria Uno was on Christmas Day, 2003. That was the year that I knew my Nuna. Those of you who are a little bit familiar with the Korean language know that Unni is what girls call their older sisters, and Nuna is what boys call their older sisters. Well, Nuna wasn't my real nuna.
She was just Nuna.
What happened was that Nuna and I had become somewhat acquainted at school, against all laws of probability. She was a junior and I was a sophomore. We had no classes together, and I can't even remember what it was that we had in common that allowed us to meet. But meet us it did, and so Nuna and I knew each other well enough to maybe wave hello in the hallway, but beyond that there wasn't much to the relationship.
At least, I didn't think so.
See, Nuna was higher up on the social ladder in her grade than I was. She was Catholic, devoutly religious, and had slightly crooked teeth. I, on the other hand, was agnostic, devoutly cynical, and had perfectly straight teeth. And this was without braces. But somehow Nuna got it into her head that I would be a good person to talk to about personal problems. After all, I had been "nice" to her, having conversations with her about nothing in particular: the kind that you have in an elevator with a person who you know through a friend's friend.
Cynical and sarcastic though I may be, it's hard for anyone to completely shut out a nice-enough acquaintance. So I listened, something I'm told I was good at back in the day. She would tell me at school, over the phone, through text messages, and I would always listen, keeping my opinions to a minimum until each story was completed. Mostly trouble with boys, trouble with grades, trouble with friends. Nuna wasn't very different from most of the Korean girls that I knew, but that was okay.
Anyways, somehow, through all this listening, Nuna came to feel indebted to me for whatever reason that she had. On the last day before winter break, she got me a Christmas present: the Lucky (Only) Scarf that I have which I still wear to this day.
Of course, I, who had nothing to give her, felt pretty guilty about accepting this present without returning the favor, so blah blah, I took her to lunch.
But then, she took me to lunch at Pizzeria Uno at COEX Mall, on Christmas Day.
A few years and a few months later, I would enter this Pizzeria Uno at COEX Mall with Tim Rogers and Drew Cosner, sit down, look at the menu, and then leave once realizing the fantastic absence of the Four-Cheese Pizza on the menu ("It's absolutely the STAPLE of this place!" Tim told us). That, and the small fact that none of us had the money to pay for the pizza.
But on this fine Christmas Day at COEX Mall, Nuna had enough money to pay for the pizza, which was, as they say in the Japanese, "oishii." Strangely enough, I have no idea what pizza we ordered, but that was the last time I ever spoke to Nuna. Certainly, I saw her in the halls, but it was something in the Pizza - that Deep Dish Pizza - that changed the nature of our friendship irrevocably.
Who could've anticipated the power of a Deep Dish Pizza?
She was just Nuna.
What happened was that Nuna and I had become somewhat acquainted at school, against all laws of probability. She was a junior and I was a sophomore. We had no classes together, and I can't even remember what it was that we had in common that allowed us to meet. But meet us it did, and so Nuna and I knew each other well enough to maybe wave hello in the hallway, but beyond that there wasn't much to the relationship.
At least, I didn't think so.
See, Nuna was higher up on the social ladder in her grade than I was. She was Catholic, devoutly religious, and had slightly crooked teeth. I, on the other hand, was agnostic, devoutly cynical, and had perfectly straight teeth. And this was without braces. But somehow Nuna got it into her head that I would be a good person to talk to about personal problems. After all, I had been "nice" to her, having conversations with her about nothing in particular: the kind that you have in an elevator with a person who you know through a friend's friend.
Cynical and sarcastic though I may be, it's hard for anyone to completely shut out a nice-enough acquaintance. So I listened, something I'm told I was good at back in the day. She would tell me at school, over the phone, through text messages, and I would always listen, keeping my opinions to a minimum until each story was completed. Mostly trouble with boys, trouble with grades, trouble with friends. Nuna wasn't very different from most of the Korean girls that I knew, but that was okay.
Anyways, somehow, through all this listening, Nuna came to feel indebted to me for whatever reason that she had. On the last day before winter break, she got me a Christmas present: the Lucky (Only) Scarf that I have which I still wear to this day.
Of course, I, who had nothing to give her, felt pretty guilty about accepting this present without returning the favor, so blah blah, I took her to lunch.
But then, she took me to lunch at Pizzeria Uno at COEX Mall, on Christmas Day.
A few years and a few months later, I would enter this Pizzeria Uno at COEX Mall with Tim Rogers and Drew Cosner, sit down, look at the menu, and then leave once realizing the fantastic absence of the Four-Cheese Pizza on the menu ("It's absolutely the STAPLE of this place!" Tim told us). That, and the small fact that none of us had the money to pay for the pizza.
But on this fine Christmas Day at COEX Mall, Nuna had enough money to pay for the pizza, which was, as they say in the Japanese, "oishii." Strangely enough, I have no idea what pizza we ordered, but that was the last time I ever spoke to Nuna. Certainly, I saw her in the halls, but it was something in the Pizza - that Deep Dish Pizza - that changed the nature of our friendship irrevocably.
Who could've anticipated the power of a Deep Dish Pizza?
