One of the most interesting of my Sausage Sightings was the Asian muscle bear.
When I was growing up in Rock Island, you were white or black. There was one Chinese kid in my junior high, and my judo instructor was Japanese. And that was it.
So I was surprised, during the summer after my junior year in college, when a Korean family moved into the house next door: Mr. Kim, an engineer in his 30s, his wife, who worked in a bank downtown, and two young daughters.
Mr. Kim was a surprisingly buffed muscle bear. He often mowed his lawn or played with his dog with his shirt off and sometimes he sat in a kiddie pool in the back yard in a swimsuit, reading a magazine.
Very hot. I wanted to get to know him better. Of course, he was married with children, but so were many of the guys who cruised at the levee.
I took a class in East Asian Civilization at Augustana. Unfortunately, we barely touched on Korea, but I tried an opening on Taoism, the Way of Non-Resistance.
Ok, so how about Korean history? The Joseon dynasty that threatened Tokugawa Japan?
Cut off again. "I don't know anything about that stuff. We moved here when I was five."
The Korean language, maybe? "Annyeong haseyo! Good morning."
"Sorry, I don't know much Korean. I took Spanish in school."
"Tengo una verga grandissima para ti!" Ok, I didn't say that.
By this point it was obvious that Mr. Kim was not particularly interested in buddying around with the teenage boy next door.
But there's more than one way to get a Sausage Sighting.
My brother and I shared an attic room with windows on each end. His bed was beside the south window that looked out on the lawn, and mine was beside the north window that looked out a very narrow side yard and then Mr. Kim's house.
I could lie in bed and look down into his kitchen.
It usually wasn't very interesting -- people cooking and getting things out of the refrigerator. But sometimes late at night I was awakened by the light coming on from next door, and I saw Mr. Kim making a snack.
And one night, something more spectacular happened.
The light came on about midnight, just after I went to bed. I peered down, as usual, to see Mr. Kim talking to his wife. He was gesturing, pacing, so maybe it was an argument.
The underwear was off! Mr. Kim was completely naked! His impressive Bratwurst was swinging in and out of view as he paced back and forth. His backside, too.
His wife was wearing a bathrobe. She started making tea.
Eventually they sat at the kitchen table, and the Bratwurst was hidden from view.
The nude kitchen stop was never repeated. A few months later, the Kims moved away.
Recently I read somewhere that the Korean penis averages 3.8 inches, the smallest in the world.
If Mr. Kim was small, I'd like to see big.
See also: 6000 Words for Penis
Well, there is the fact that his neighbor is a peeping Tom.
ReplyDeleteThat's a criminal act in which you spy on people from inside their property. I was just lying in my bed and looking out the window. Not a crime.
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