T'was three nights before Christmas, when somewhere in Seoul
Four friends were meeting, in the freezing cold.
Their dresses were ironed, their hair nicely done
In hopes of enjoying some highbrow fun.
The beers were imported, the food meat-free
While the friends spoke of the ballet with glee.
Through the streets, to the Seoul Art Center
To the cheery elegance in the cold of winter.
The Christmas ballet, the Nutcracker show
But... where did all the people go?
You're late they cried, what were you thinking?
We were too consumed with our Christmas drinking.
The dancing ended, the bouquets were caught
Our trip to the ballet cut ever so short.
In commiseration, we set out on the town
Until one of the friends fell tragically down.
Her high heel was broken, her face was red
The night turning, to one full of dread.
Eventually we found our calm salvation
In the basement level of Gangnam station.
A pub, big beers, and a plate of chips,
No more ballet, no more slips.
I learned that friends play a crucial part,
And that not everyone is suited to highbrow art!
By Steph Wood
[adapted from The Night Before Christmas, by Clement Clarke Moore]
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| The failsome foursome in the opera house lobby. |
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| Sydney, still smiling. |
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| Meeting the dancers after the show, minus one heel and a chunk dignity |
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| Luckily we were still in high enough spirits to pose for cheesey photos. |
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| Ric thought the evening was a huge success as there was a pub showing English football and serving huge jugs of beer. I don't think he even realised we'd missed most of the ballet. |
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| The people make the party... right? |
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| Night bus home to the safety of Cheonan. Their faces say it all. |
