Forget It Jake...It's Koreatown

When I first moved to Los Angeles, my writing partner and I were hired to write a film script. The final draft was just submitted, the movie starts shooting this fall, and it was our first attempt at writing a thriller/crime drama. The man who hired us is a true character. I won't mention his name or any specifics, but he's a very interesting guy. I'll call him "Boss."

He is Korean, and one fateful Friday night he asked the two of us to join him for a night out in Koreatown, a (duh) largely Korean area near Hollywood. My writing partner called me as I got off work.

WP: Hey, Boss wants us to go to a Booking Club with him tonight.

ME: What's a Booking Club?"

WP: No idea. Apparently it's a big Korean thing.

ME: Aren't you Korean?

WP: Yes.

I got all dolled up and we headed to the club. From the outside, it appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. I walked up with my writing partner and Boss. Boss spoke with the bouncer for several minutes, but the bouncer kept looking at me and shaking his head. Were my clothes not cool enough? Was I not fly?

Eventually, Boss persuaded him to let me pass, and once inside, I realized why I was having difficulty being granted passage. Not only was I the only white man inside, but I was the only non-Korean. If it had been a movie, the music would have squealed to a stop and everyone would have turned to look my way.

The Booking Club was like a scene out of Rising Sun. There was a huge dance floor jam-packed with gorgeous Asian women. Around the dance floor were tables. Each table was covered in bottles of (exclusively) Crown Royal liquor and huge fruit plates. There were giant screens playing music videos from the mid-90s (REM, Cranberries), but the music pumping didn't match them, it was strictly Asian boy band. It was quite a scene.

I sat down at a table and watched the dancing. After a few minutes and a few shots, Boss turned to me and said "Hey Pat! You want a booking?"

"What's a booking?"

"No man, you want a booking. Hang on."

Then he pointed at me, grabbed a waiter, and slipped him a wad of bills.

The waiter walked out onto the dance floor, picked up a girl, and physically dragged her to our table. She struggled and thrashed as the guys essentially forced her into our booth to sit next to me. Once she sat down, she continued to struggle, and I made it clear that if she wanted to leave, they should let her go. I was terrified.

BOSS: Introduce yourself.

ME: Um. Hi. My name is...Pat.

I extended my hand. She rolled her eyes and shook it.

ME: If you want to leave, you can.

BOSS: No, Pat, you gotta keep her here!

At this point, my mind started racing. Was this a prosititute? Had Boss paid for me to sleep with her? Did I stumble into an illegal Asian sex ring? And was that kind of awesome?

Another girl was dragged to our table for my writing partner, and the same thing went down. She kicked and squirmed and struggled but was eventually forced into our booth. It was a real kick to the nuts of our self-esteem, having girls actually try to run away from us.

My girl and I made chit-chat for a few minutes, but my heart certainly wasn't in it, and she got up and left. The other guys at the table looked at me with extreme disappointment. The night went on and another attempt was made. Same thing went down, girl was dragged over, drank our alcohol, I made chit-chat, she fled.

I was so weirded out by this, I had to get some answers. Eventually I approached a pretty Asian woman in her 30's, who appeared to be a little above the whole thing.

ME: Excuse me. What is going on here?

WOMAN: I'm sorry?

ME: Like, is there some sort of weird sex trading going on or what? Why are these girls allowing themselves to be manhandled?

WOMAN: That's what a Booking Club is! That's what they come here for! You see, Asian children are forced to study very hard their whole lives, and many of them never really learn how to socialize and date. If the girls come here, it's forced socialization.

ME: So the girls want it to happen?

WOMAN: Yes.

ME: Well, why are they fighting it if that's what they came here for? Like, if they want to meet guys, why don't they just come sit at the tables voluntarily?

WOMAN: Ah, because if they appear too eager, it makes them seem slutty, like they don't have morals. The fight is all part of the act. They act uninterested, they try to run, and you're supposed to do anything in your power to keep them at your table. And if they leave, you should follow them.

ME: That's insane.

WOMAN: (taking a huge drag off her cigarette and blowing it into my face) No, baby. That's...Koreatown!

*That last line was added for dramatic effect.

Can you believe these places exist? I half expected a Yakuza gang to blast through the wall on motorcycles.

The night ended with the DJ playing Mariah Carey's "Hero." Everybody slow-danced. Large amounts of money were handed to the waiters. Then I went into the parking lot and watched several red-faced Asians vomit. A man pitched me a sitcom with William Hung playing a lounge singer in Las Vegas that he claimed FOX was interested in. And I headed home, frightened and confused.

tags: koreatown  booking club  

links: digg this    del.icio.us    technorati    reddit