I decided that I needed to get some food tonight since tomorrow starts the Chuseok holiday and many things will be closed for the nest three days. Part of my quest was for pizza. (Leftovers are wonderful for the lazy, like me.)
I've never called my pizza guy before. I usually just show up and wait for it. But I decided I would call and hopefully save myself some time, since I wasn't feeling very good. Here's our phone convo:
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Me: Ah, yeo-beo-sey-yo. Mee-gook-in imnida.
Him: Ah, yeh, yeh, yeo-beo-sey-yo. Potato pee-juh?
Me: Ney, doo-gey, ju-sey-yo.
Him: Ney, Kom-sam-ni-da.
(Hung up.)
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English version:
Me: Hi, I'm the American.
Him: Oh, hello. Potato pizza?
Me: Two, please.
Him: Thank you.
(Hang up.)
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I don't even have to identify myself more than "I'm the American." This means that either I'm one of the only non-Koreans who goes there, or I eat too much pizza.
Or both.
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Easiest. Call. Ever. ♥
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