K-Town, Episode 3 Recap (Part One): Soju is the Relationship Killer (Spontaneous Dance-Off Edition)

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FS2gq6agLvA

Spoiler alert! Which hopefully you would have figured out by the word “recap” in the title.

This post will deal with the first five minutes of episode 3. That’s right — the first five minutes.

There’s a lot that could be said about this episode, but I think this pretty much sums it up:

ka-BOOM.

When last we left our fearless heroes and heroines, Jowe (aka “Prince of K-Town”) and Violet had shared a fleeting, soju-drenched, kiss in the hallway of a local K-town club. Some time later, the Prince was flirting with some random pants-less smoking girl at the bar. This girl, by the way, has a voice like fingernails on a chalkboard. She sounded like a vapid West Coast Valley Girl who’s been doping with cannisters of helium. She sounded like Alvin and the Chipmunks on Xanax. I’m really sorry to say it: she sounded like she was looking to get punched in the face.

Anyways, as Jowe (perhaps we should actually call him the Prince of Revisionist History?)  puts it:

"So, Violet just comes up and introduces herself out of nowhere. And then, they just start complimenting each other on each others' outfits. And then next thing you know..."

Yeah, no. That is not what happened.

Look, I don’t know if the Prince was consciously trying to hook up with Random Pants-less Smoking Girl. But, I’m siding with the women on this one: approaching a girl and telling her that she’s pretty is a come-on. It’s pretty much the textbook definition of a come-on. Whether or not you should be picking up a girl while you’re partying with your ex- in the same room is a whole other topic for conversation; but, let’s not pretend that the Prince wasn’t trying to get some play just there.

Anyways: blah blah blah, “Oh, you’re not wearing pants?”, yadda yadda yadda, “Bitch!”, ker-splash. Let’s fast-forward to this week’s episode. One drunken alcohol… water… does-it-really-matter-flinging later, and Random Pants-less Smoking Girl tears after Violet (screaming “Oh, HELL no…!”), who is immediately whisked away by a flabbergasted, and surely cock-blocked, Jowe.

Okay, Jowe. If you’re reading this, let me give you a teeny-tiny piece of advice. Trying to have this conversation:

"Can we please talk about our feelings?"

… just hours after you and your friends did this:

I counted 18 shots of soju over 19 glasses of beer. Yes, I went back and counted. Yes, I'm a dork.

… and just minutes after you and your ex- did this:

This is an ill-advised, drunken hallway hook-up.

… is just plain dumb.

And, it’s especially dumb to try and have this conversation in the middle. of. the. goddammed. dance. floor. Cue, Scarlet, who has decided that this particular conversation needs to be a three-way.

Two's a party, but three's a perfect number for intimate discussions on the state of our romantic relationship.

Honestly, what Scarlet says isn’t really relevant. Hilarious, but not really relevant. What’s relevant is that at this exact moment, Random Pants-less Smoking Girl shows up with her own glass of soju, and flings it wildly over the verbal menage-a-trois.

This is Random Pants-less Smoking Girl. And that's an arc of soju. That's Scarlet's boob on the right side of the image.

Which prompts Violet to throw yet another drink at Random Pants-less Smoking Girl.

That's Violet in the far-right corner throwing water at Random Pants-less Smoking Girl's face. Meanwhile, Scarlet, who got the brunt of Thrown Drink #2, is on the left and is coming in for the kill.

(Yes, it took me something like four or five rewinds to get a grasp of this play-by-play.)

So, let me pause here for a moment. That’s not one -… not two-… but, three drinks thrown into someone’s face in the span of, what, like fifteen minutes. I’ve gone my entire adult life having never flung a beverage at another human being, while these girls manage to set some sort of Bizarre Drink-Flinging World Record in less than 30 minutes. Somehow, I feel like all this time I’ve been doing it wrong.

Anyways, three drinks are thrown, and (of course) all hell breaks loose. Honestly, at this point I kind of felt bad for Random Pants-less Smoking Girl: this wasn’t just an ordinary catfight that she suddenly found herself in the middle of. This was, like, some sort of coordinated catfight. It was like something out of Animal Planet — y’know where the lions circle around the wounded baby zebra and then go in for the kill? There was strategy. There was planning. There was fuckin’ flanking maneuvers. While Scarlet shoves Random Pants-less Smoking Girl to the ground, Violet grabs her by the hair. Scarlet flees for cover, some hand-slapping happens, Random Pants-less Smoking Girl connects with Violet’s left eye, and then the Prince breaks the whole thing up.

This would be all kinds of flashing lights, and handcuffs, and assault and battery charges... if it weren't so darned funny.
It's just complete chaos. Screams of "Let go of my fuckin' hair! Let go of my fuckin' hair!" and "Ow! My fuckin' eye! My faaace!" Complete and utter chaos.

Mike Le, was right; this show totally busts stereotypes. Specifically, the stereotype that all Asians know kung fu.

And, my favourite part?

This guy. Who can be seen in the background of the whole catfight, watching and laughing while nonchalantly smoking a cigarette.

Later, Violet sums up why she was so worried about getting a black eye in a line that’s equal parts sheer awesome and sheer bitch:

"Ugly girls have nothing to lose. Like, they don't care if their face gets fucked up. As for me...?"

Honestly, that’s the kind of line that would ordinarily make me hate a girl. Except, that later on, when the Prince drags Violet off to Hookup Hallway to talk about their feelings, Random Pants-less Smoking Girl confronts them both one more time, tries to start the fight again, and calls Violet fat.

Yeeeaaaah. Fuck you, Random Pants-less Smoking Girl.

Really? Violet? Fat? She’s fat like I’m seven feet tall and playing for the New York Knicks.

Which, unfortunately, neither is Jeremy Lin.

So, really, in the end it’s kind of just one big ‘ol superficiality slug-fest. And, in that context, I can kind of forgive Violet for being supremely bitchy.

After more insults are flung in Hookup Hallway, Random Pants-less Smoking Girl leaves. And that’s when we finally get to see:

Holy shit. She really WASN'T wearing any pants. Are those ass-less chaps?

The girls and the guys break off into separate groups to tell their sides of the story. And really, it’s kind of a brilliant piece of gender role-playing: Violet tells an emotional recounting of how Jowe is playing with her emotions while the girls help her process, while Jowe and the boys really can’t figure out what the big deal is. Jasmine, aka Jazzy (cutest nickname ever), encourages Violet to get the Prince out of her life.

Courage wound up, the Prince drags Violet back to Hookup Hallway for yet another “can we talk about our feelings?” chit-chat. Violet starts cussing and swearing. She’s revved up, infuriated and exasperated (and possibly still a little drenched with soju).

"I'm fuckin' pissed!!! I'm fuckin' pissed!!!" she screams at him.

At this point, I’m rooting for the girl: come on, Violet, you can do it!

"You're the one flirting with all the girls!" she yells at him.

You can tell him off! You can get in his face, give him a piece of your mind, and -… and-…

 

... and-....
........
When the fail is so strong, one facepalm is not enough.

(And, of course, wouldn’t you know that Young missed it all…?)

Tune in to my next recap post when I cover the second half of K-Town Episode 3.

Update: Part Two is here.

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