[Current & Culture] Please Add It to My Bill

When I was in high school, I briefly attended a comprehensive academy near Seodaemun in Seoul. I followed a friend and took a single math lecture, and somehow felt that this academy would get me into college. However, I quit after two or three months. I no longer even remember the symbols for trigonometry or calculus that I learned back then. What remains vivid, though, are the arcade nearby and the small food stall selling tteokbokki. At some point, my friend and I made it a point to always stop by there. Arcade first, then tteokbokki?that was our promise.

One winter day, after class ended, my friend and I ate tteokbokki at the food stall in front of the academy. Since we had come straight from school, we were both still in our uniforms. Our conversation then was half sighs, it seems. “Ah, what are we going to do?” “Yeah, we’re doomed.” While exchanging such words, we ate tteokbokki that cost 1,000 won per serving. At that moment, two middle school girls in uniforms came in beside us. They ordered one serving of tteokbokki and shared it. Watching them, for some reason, I calculated the cost of my and my friend’s tteokbokki and told the owner, “Please add their tteokbokki to the bill as well.”

It was fair for me to buy my friend’s tteokbokki since I had lost to him in a game at the arcade, but there was no reason to pay for the girls’ order at the next table. My friend whispered to me, “Are you crazy?” The middle school girls stammered but then said thank you. I left without saying anything like “Enjoy your meal.” Honestly, I was embarrassed even as I did it. When my friend asked why I did that, I answered, “Well, they ordered one serving between two of them. They probably wanted one each too.”

Perhaps that was the first act of kindness I ever showed to a complete stranger. This memory came back to me recently because of an incident involving someone I know, K.

K was dining at a restaurant and when it was time to pay, the owner accidentally charged K’s meal to someone else’s card. They had to refund and reprocess the payment, but the machine wouldn’t cooperate. Amid this, the person whose card was mistakenly used said, “Then I’ll just buy this person’s meal. That way, everyone feels good.” Hearing this, K said that if he were the machine, he would pay for both their meals with his own card, but in the end, after waiting a bit, they each paid for their own meals.

How many people would have the grace to say, “If my card is used to pay for someone else’s meal, I’d be happy to buy their meal too”? I’m not very confident I would. I probably would have just frowned and waited. But that one phrase transformed the restaurant owner’s embarrassment and K’s awkwardness into mutual respect for each other. K told that person, “Thanks to your kindness, I think today will really be a good day.” The person held K’s hand and replied, “Your words actually move me.” To the apologetic restaurant owner who said sorry for the wait, they said thank you for the kind words and left feeling good together.

A single phrase that considers another’s feelings, the grace to imagine oneself in the position of a perfect stranger?aren’t these the kindnesses we should have? I want to hold the hands of both him and K. Though I’m still embarrassed about the tteokbokki I bought that day.

Kim Minseop, Social and Cultural Critic