Buying a Car and the Pain of Practice

The weekend after wrapping up the fall event.

Sunday morning. I'd gotten home at eight the previous evening, and between unpacking and doing laundry, I'd gone to bed late—only to be woken up early by the noise of construction on the Starbucks on the first floor.

I soothed my morning hunger with a leisurely brunch set at a café nearby, then headed for Gangnam.

Today was the day I bought a car.

"Heh heh."

The smile wouldn't leave my face. I stood in front of the dealership in a completely relaxed frame of mind.

Seven billion won earned from coins. With that kind of money sitting in my account, I didn't feel the least bit intimidated walking into a Porsche showroom.

My dream car. My romantic fantasy. The Porsche Panamera.

Just imagining commuting to work behind the wheel of a black Panamera kept the grin plastered across my face.

As I stood gazing through the showroom window, a dealer approached. Our eyes met. He gestured for me to come in with a smile.

But I turned my head and walked away.

I'd imagined it all: if I drove a car like that, my coworkers wouldn't be able to tear their eyes off it, and the rumors would spread like wildfire—lottery win, crypto jackpot, take your pick.

Not that the rumors would have been false. I really had won the lottery, and I really had struck it rich on coins.

But not yet. I decided to take a step back and wait for the day I could quit my job and buy a car with a clear conscience. Besides, plenty of domestic cars these days were pretty damn good.

And so I opened the door to the Gisung Motors dealership.

Gleaming cars lined the showroom floor, and a dealer with a bright smile came over to greet me.

"Welcome, sir. What kind of car are you looking at today?"

I answered calmly.

"I'd like to see some premium sedans, or a premium SUV."

I emphasized the word premium. A little indulgence like this was allowed.

The dealer tilted his head.

"For customers your age, the Sonata Tempo or the Grandeur Gio are popular choices, but if you're thinking premium... these days the CV80 is all the rage."

He added with a slight smile, "But if that's a bit much, the Santa Feo or the Palisade Lina are excellent options too. Plenty of people are satisfied with their size, performance, and styling."

"I don't need anything that big."

"Are you married, by any chance, sir?"

"No..."

"Everyone says that. But after they get married, they all regret not buying the full-size SUV."

"I'm not getting married."

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm not doing marriage or anything like it..."

"Ah... then how about the CV70? It's smaller than the CV80, but it's more comfortable than you'd expect, and the styling is top-notch."

At the dealer's suggestion, I settled into the driver's seat. The cabin was so smooth and refined that I could finally feel the truth of its nickname—the Macan of Joseon.

"I like it. I'll take this one."

"Thank you, sir. Right this way, then. I'll walk you through the contract details."

Fortunately, the display model matched my desired options and color exactly, so it could be delivered immediately. With a discount on top, no less. Seven billion won might have been sitting in my account, but a discount was a discount. I couldn't pass one up.

Monday, 8:00 AM.

"Good morning."

"Morning, Manager Kim."

"Good morning to you."

Deflated Monday voices filled the office. Was Monday really that hateful? Well, I suppose it was—I hated it enough to be shouting too.

"Time Pass."

The second hand spun in a blur, and just like that, the clock read 6:00 PM.

"Great work today, everyone."

The moment it hit six—no, the moment I clocked in—I was up out of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my seat. A flawless day, no need to check.

But then Team Leader Jeong planted himself in front of me with a grim, battle-ready expression.

"Heading to the driving range, are we?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You're sorry? So you are confident."

"Team Leader... sir, I'm not sure what you mean all of a sudden..."

"Manager Kim. We're taking the Department Head out for exercise this Saturday, remember? You're not planning to skip practice?"

"Exercise? You mean... golf?"

"What, did you think we'd all go lift weights together?"

"......."

I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my messages.

Apparently my Time Pass self had gone ahead and booked a tee time.

"Ah, I'm so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sorry. I mixed up my schedule."

"Mixed it up, my foot. This time it's our team hosting the Department Head. Maybe you can't schmooze him out on the course, but you can't play the way you've been playing!"

"Ah... yes, sir. I'll practice."

I headed to an indoor golf range near the office.

Thwack!Thwack!

"Hooowh..."

I'd taken a few full, satisfying swings, but judging by how hard I'd hit the ground behind the ball, my ribs were aching all the way through.

"This... this is a problem."

My score hovered around 100. "Around 100" was generous, too—by PGA rules it was closer to 120. I'd been playing for five years now. In the beginning I'd swung with real passion, but this game was anything but easy.

And every round cost a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠good 200,000 to 300,000 won plus an entire day of my time, so I'd never had the money or the hours to spare. My wife had especially hated it.

Who plays golf for fun anyway?

I gripped the club again. The Department Head was a self-confessed golf nut. If I embarrassed myself in front of him, company life could get a whole lot harder.

Whatever passion I'd once had had long since gone cold, but I swung the club again anyway.

Practice was the only way through.

Thwack!

The ball sliced through the air—and slammed into the divider of the next stall with a bang. I turned to see the ahjussi in the neighboring bay letting out a short sigh. I bowed my head in apology and reset my stance.

I ran through the tips I'd watched on YouTube in my head, but my body wouldn't cooperate. This time I will make clean contact—was as far as the thought got before the clubhead dug deep into the turf mat with a resounding chunk.

"Ugh... ngh!"

A sharp sting near my ribs again. Tears pricked at my eyes for a second... but what could I do? Practice, that's what.

Thwack—

Thwack—

After an hour of swinging without a break, my whole body was drenched in sweat. One thing had become certain: this wasn't going to cut it.

I wished I could just use Time Pass, but...

Unavailable on public holidays. I needed to find another answer.