Coffee House episode recaps (source dramabeans.com)

I rarely have such a positive reaction to a drama after just one hour, but I’ll say it: I loved the first episode of Coffee House. More than I was expecting, in fact. I’d been keeping my expectations down — didn’t want to be disappointed again — which I was pretty successful in doing, mostly by trying not to think about it too much. So this was a happy surprise.

The characters — and actors — are all adorable (and interesting), the tone is feel-good, and there’s a refreshing quality to this drama. The story is pretty straightforward so far, but there’s a stylish flair to the directing — not too much, but a hint — that makes it FEEL like a newish, different style of drama (even if it may not be breaking any ground narratively). The atmosphere and general feel are what I was hoping of Personal Taste, actually. I have a good feeling about this one.

SONG OF THE DAY

10cm – “오늘밤은 어둠이 무서워요” (The dark is frightening tonight) [ Download ]


CHARACTERS

This is KANG SEUNG-YEON (played by member of pop group T-ara Ham Eun-jung). She is 25 and only barely employed working at her family’s shabby coffee shop. (So, effectively unemployed.) As the place doesn’t have very many customers, she spends her days sitting around reading manhwa books, and the episode starts off with one of her musings about what her life would be like if it were like those manhwa stories.

Alas, she’s not exactly what you’d call blessed with good luck — she has a habit of running into embarrassing situations. I wouldn’t describe her as overly plucky or bubbly, but despite a lack of promising prospects on the horizon, she doesn’t succumb to depression or self-pity, either.

This is her family, who are adorable. Seung-yeon’s father (Ahn Gil-kang — SO different here than he was in Chuno and Queen Seon-deok!) runs the cafe, while younger brother SEUNG-CHUL (Kim Min-sang of La Dolce Vita) is in high school. They live with Grandma, while Mom passed away of cancer.

Similar to Seung-yeon, they aren’t terribly ambitious or prosperous, but they’re not really unhappy with their circumstances. They are okay with things, even if life could be better. Hey, it could also be worse.

Now for LEE JIN-SOO (Kang Ji-hwan), who at 32 is already a famous novelist. Although he is quite charming and makes a great first impression, upon closer look he’s got quite the unpredictable personality. For instance, even when he’s annoyed with something, he’s able to slap on his trademark friendly grin and smoothly solve the problem without letting his dissatisfaction show. At least not until he’s alone.

Jin-soo’s not outright rude, but his eccentricities make him an intriguing mix of contradictions: he’s generous but picky about his preferences, has a warm smile but cool logic, is capable of putting on a professional persona but behaves incredibly irresponsibly with business commitments, is frank but also glib…

SEO EUN-YOUNG (Park Shi-yeon), 31, is a savvy businesswoman and the head of her own publishing company. According to her profile, she got some help gaining a foothold in the industry because her grandfather was famous in cultural circles and her father was also a publisher, but with her skills Eun-young has propelled her company to great success and also launched a successful franchise of book cafes.

Personality-wise, she’s expressive of her emotions, one minute taking out her frustrations violently on inanimate objects, then toasting in glee shortly thereafter. Jin-soo is one of her star authors, but also a grand source of headaches. From the way they talk to each other, it appears they’ve known each other very well for many years. In fact, Eun-young sighs that she’s the only one who sees through the charming facade to Jin-soo’s true personality.


PAGE 1 RECAP

(The drama uses the page motif to denote episode numbers.)

Sitting in her family’s empty cafe, Seung-yeon fantasizes about the type of story typical to the manhwa books she likes to read. You know, the kind that starts off with a successful, handsome guy deciding to depart from his usual routine and ending up in an unexpected scenario.

Kind of like this one:

Jin-soo sits in traffic with his two handlers — publishing company employees who are escorting him to a book signing. They assure him that they’re almost there, and that these things never start on time anyway. But Jin-soo decides that he’d rather ditch this shindig, and he quickly grabs his things to dash out of the car.

The two employees don’t know how to react, unable to desert their car and also unable to chase after him through traffic, and call after him pleadingly. But Jin-soo dodges cars and walks off in the other direction, though he pauses to look back at them and flash a grin their way.

That smile? You’ll get familiar with it, real fast.

A sudden spring shower hinders the employees’ efforts to track down Jin-soo, and they miss seeing him in the nearby cafe, into which he ducks to escape the downpour. Looking up from her book, Seung-yeon shuffles over to take his order, and he requests a cappuccino.

She sees that a piece of tissue that he has been using to mop up the rain has stuck to his face, and she picks it off for him. That touch startles her into awareness, and she recalls that this is just the type of guy she’d been fantasizing about in her manhwa books! In fact, now she looks at him anew, in a different, glimmering light.


On the plane, Eun-young is recognized by her seatmate, who is reading a magazine that has a feature on her. She enjoys the flattery he heaps upon her, as he marvels at all her professional achievements.

She uses the in-flight phone to check in on the book signing, and blows a gasket to hear that Jin-soo ran off. She had warned her employees to stick close to him, knowing his tendency to thwart them. Stewing at her impotence, Eun-young goes to the lavatory to vent her frustration on Jin-soo’s book — the next user finds Jin-soo’s shredded photo in the toilet — then emerges after collecting herself and psychs herself up to deal with this.

Seung-yeon is making Jin-soo’s cappuccino when her ex-boyfriend storms in angrily to pick a fight over being dumped via text. The fight escalates, and Seung-yeon locks herself in the bathroom while continuing to yell. After the ex storms out, Jin-soo quietly knocks on the door to ask about the cappuccino. Recollecting the customer, Seung-yeon jumps up to get back to work…

…only the door is stuck. The lock is malfunctioning, and she can’t get out. He calls her family members on her cell phone, but nobody picks up, so he offers to call for a repairman.

While Seung-yeon waits, a wave of ajumma customers comes in and makes their orders with Jin-soo, assuming he’s a worker. As it turns out, he’s actually really good at this and perfectly competent at making their drinks.

His friend DO-SANG arrives at the cafe, and it turns out that they’d arranged to meet here. Do-sang suggested the place because he knows Seung-yeon, who is a hoobae (younger schoolmate) from college.

When the repairman arrives, Seung-yeon is on the toilet dealing with some unfortunate tummy troubles, and, well, we all know where this is going, right? (Sigh, Korean dramas and their love of toilet humor!)

She’s caught with her pants down (literally), and comes out shamefaced as the two men are leaving. Do-sang greets her cheerily (we can tell that he’s got a thing for her, though she doesn’t see it), and Jin-soo tells her he left the ajummas’ money on the counter for her. At this generous gesture in the face of her humiliation, she is completely awed.

She also finally realizes where she recognizes him — he’s the famous author!

At home, the family gathers for Seung-yeon’s mother’s memorial rites. Seung-yeon is dismayed when her family brings home food that’s clearly in bad shape — the jelly’s all mushed, the dried fish battered, the watermelon cracked. Grandma hastily says that it’s all the same when it’s cut up and served, but Seung-yeon finds out the truth when her angry ex calls.

Apparently her family had been walking home from the store with their food purchases when they’d seen the ex making out with another girl in the street. And here’s where I fall in love with these bumbling three, because they had proceeded to attack the cheater (or so they thought him) with their food items, mashing his face into the jelly and so on.

Seung-yeon explains to her family that she’d been the one to dump the guy, so there’s no need to feel sorry for her.

Eun-young returns to work to hear that her office has still been unable to track down Jin-soo. He called once from Ulleungdo — an island way off in the sea to the east — and that was it.

When Jin-soo comes back home, he has a voicemail message from Eun-young, which states in clipped professional tones that he will be sued for breach of contract. She has sent over legal paperwork detailing every single interview he’s blown off, every event he has not attended, and every violation of his contract of the past year.

At first Jin-soo’s surprised at her move, and as he listens, Eun-young’s cool speech turns into gleeful laughter, as she exults that he ain’t gonna win, no way — and by the way, how long did he think she’d put up with his crazy behavior? Rather than being offended to be called rotten trash, Jin-soo lets out a little laugh, as though grudgingly respecting her bold move.

At the office, Eun-young pops a bottle of champagne and toasts. Her employees stammer uneasily that losing Jin-soo as an author isn’t something to be celebrating, but she’s practically giddy at the idea of washing her hands of him.

Jin-soo arrives just as they raise a toast, and we can see that there’s a complicated dynamic between these two — there’s a lot of half-affectionate, half-antagonistic history there. Jin-soo calls her bluff — surely it’s a bluff, and she can’t end their business relationship this way — and says that he wrote a synopsis while he was away, and it’s really great. Producing a piece of paper, folded in the shape of an airplane, he sends it flying over. It lands in a cake.

Everyone freezes — gauntlet has been thrown! Surely they’ll read it, right? After a moment of surprise, Eun-young puts on her bravado face and tells him to take it to his next publisher. After all, it’ll take him, oh, three years of hard work before anything comes of it, and who knows, a single idea might not amount to anything.

But he dangles it in front of her, saying that this one’s a really good idea — and it’s even great for a movie. This gives her pause, but she sticks to her guns, twisting up the paper without opening it, and dropping it into her champagne flute.

Jin-soo’s legitimately shocked, and utters that that’s his only copy. Yikes! But Eun-young’s pot-committed now and can’t afford to back down, so she continues to swirl her glass around carelessly. She tells him airily that that’s just too bad.

The instant he leaves, everyone scrambles to save the document. Unfolding the paper, Eun-young starts to read it, and slowly her reaction grows excited — he was right. It’s AWESOME.

Later that night, Jin-soo finds his rescued document taped to his door, with a Post-It note from Eun-young telling him to finish the manuscript in six months. The first Post-It says in dire tones that he’d better finish within the allotted time… but the second adds cheerily, “You can do it. I believe in you. Writer Lee, fighting!”

Seung-yeon gets word from her sunbae Do-sang about a possible job opening, which gets her entire family excited. It turns out to be a secretary position for Jin-soo, and of course she leaps at the chance but also finds it puzzling that he’d hire her, with her lack of experience. Everyone wonders about it for a moment, but they’re too excited to give it much thought. A job is a job, manseh!

Seung-yeon nervously shows up at Jin-soo’s apartment the next morning, ready to work. He starts by outlining the details — since he has six months to produce his manuscript, her job will last about that long, and he can pay her daily. He’s so charming and generous that she is wowed yet again and finds him perfect — he’s smart, good-looking, kind, modest, and well-mannered. Maybe her luck is turning, to be blessed with such a great job and boss.

Next, Seung-yeon talks to the publishing house’s employees to acquaint herself with Jin-soo’s quirks. For instance, he doesn’t have a car — he gets around on bike and Segway. Nor does he have a cell phone, which makes it difficult to get in touch with him. And when he writes a manuscript, there are two things she needs to prepare: ten sharpened pencils, and drip coffee.

She approaches those two tasks with gusto, making coffee and sharpening pencils. He takes a sip and lies that her coffee is great, but it clearly sucks. The pencils she has prepared bother him. And her typing is distracting.

To keep her occupied and out of his hair, he sends her off to summarize a book for “research” purposes, which she can do at the book cafe downstairs. He tells her to work there, but rather than saying that it’s because he finds her distracting, he smiles charmingly and says it’s because the book has to stay at the cafe.

Happily, Seung-yeon heads out, excited to be given her first big task. But when she turns back to retrieve something she’d forgotten, she sees Jin-soo dumping her freshly sharpened pencils in the trash and sharpening a new batch himself with a knife. He throws her coffee out and brews his own batch.

Downstairs, Seung-yeon finds to her dismay that the book he asked her to read is a huge reference tome on fossils, and because it’s in English, progress is extremely slow.

This turns out to be Eun-young’s book cafe, and she greets Seung-yeon warmly. The instant she hears about Seung-yeon’s task, she knows what Jin-soo’s up to and laughs to herself. But it’s not her place to disillusion the poor girl, so she just sympathizes that it’ll take a long while.

Seung-yeon stays there all day long until Jin-soo finally calls her back, having lost track of time while working. She says apologetically that she barely got through five pages, but he smiles (again, that dazzling big grin) and says that’s fine. She can continue tomorrow. He pays her the day’s wages and sends her home.

With her first paycheck, Seung-yeon buys her family dinner that night, reveling in her new, cushy job, hoping it extends years and years.

And yet… as the week goes on, she finds herself growing more dissatisfied (and confused). She approaches her two very simple tasks with determination, but still, every day Jin-soo pours out the coffee and tosses away her pencils. And every day he pays her with that maddeningly cheery smile despite the fact that he has not asked her to do any work and thrown out the only things she has actually done for him.

This bothers her, so Seung-yeon calls her sunbae to ask what the deal is. What kind of secretary is she to get paid for doing nothing? Do-sang just laughs, not seeing the problem, and says that Jin-soo actually has a totally nutty personality as though that explains everything.

That doesn’t satisfy her, so during the taxi home, she shares her discontent with her driver. The driver first speculates that the guy must like her, but she dismisses that as ridiculous. So then, the driver advises her to simply ask the guy directly.

Fortified with courage, both from the driver’s comments and the soju variety, Seung-yeon decides that is a fabulous idea. Turn around — back to the apartment!

She bangs on Jin-soo’s door, then bursts in all flustered, demanding to know why he doesn’t make her do anything. If he doesn’t like her coffee, he could just say so. Or he could tell her to quit. Why is he making a fool of her?

Jin-soo laughs. Isn’t her job pleasant and easy? She retorts that no, it’s not! Why does she have to read that huge book? And then she thinks of the driver’s comments, and thinks… maybe… then… IS he interested in her? Haltingly she asks, “Do you… like me?” Did he perhaps fall in love at first sight at the cafe?

Jin-soo looks at her incredulously, which brings Seung-yeon back to her senses, arguing that it’s only because his behavior is so ridiculous that she’d even entertain such a crazy possibility. So what is his deal?

Jin-soo tells that he was going to pay Do-sang approximately 10 million won ($8,000) for doing some work for him, but Do-sang had told him to give it to Seung-yeon instead. The job was created as an excuse, as a favor to Do-sang.

Perplexed, Seung-yeon wonders why, and Jin-soo smiles and replies, “You should know why.” When it finally connects that Do-sang has a crush on her, Jin-soo ushers her out and tells her to take it up with her sunbae, as he has a lot of work to do.

She starts to head out, but another thought occurs to her, and she turns back, banging on the door as second time. Bursting into his apartment again, Seung-yeon tells Jin-soo that he still didn’t answer her question. If he hired her as a secretary, why does he not give her any work? Isn’t it a waste?

Jin-soo replies that she can’t match his tastes — he’s quite picky, you see, more than you’d guess. Seung-yeon protests that she could try to match his tastes, but he answers with certainty, “You can’t.”

She presses the matter, asking why not. So Jin-soo says with a little laugh — not meaning to be condescending but being condescending nonetheless — “What could I expect of an amateur?” He doesn’t say this to be hurtful, and takes a matter-of-fact approach to his answer, which is no less hurtful because it’s true.

Jin-soo relates the first day he met her at the cafe, and now that we see it from his point of view, it’s clear that he’s hardly the smooth, gentle, sparkly prince-type manhwa hero that she’d pictured. There was so much wrong with the cafe that he knew right away that she was an amateur — not in a career sense, but mentally. Does she understand now?

Ouch. Seung-yeon claps her hands over her ears, assuring him that she did indeed get his message, loud and clear. She apologizes, but Jin-soo says with his friendly smile that there’s no need for apologies — since the money is going to her through Do-sang anyway, they can continue their arrangement. And if she doesn’t like the book, she can pick a different one to read. You almost get the sense that it would be kinder to be cruel, because his nonchalance is almost more embarrassing to her.

Seeing that she’s still flustered and a little bit drunk, he offers to make her a cup of coffee before she goes. But now when she looks at him through her disillusioned eyes, he neither sparkles nor impresses with that damned infuriating smile.


COMMENTS

Despite the title and the media’s attempt to associate this drama as part of a “House” series, Coffee House has nothing at all to do with Full House. Not in the setup, the plot, the characters, or even directorial style. While I thought the directing in Full House was standard stuff — neither good nor bad — PD Pyo Min-soo has been evolving through subsequent dramas. He did What Star Are You From (which was meh), took on a weightier and introspective tone in Insoon Is Pretty (which dealt with a woman re-entering society after serving time for committing an accidental manslaughter in her teens), and the entertainment-industry-centric The World They Live In (which is my favorite of his dramas, style-wise). This drama takes the flair of the latter and applies it to the romantic-comedy genre, and the result is a breath of fresh air. Not quite Coffee Prince, maybe, but with that kind of light, deft touch.

What had me smiling was the characters, from each of the leads down to the minor characters like Seung-yeon’s family, particularly Dad and Little Bro. As you probably know, despite Eun-jung’s pop-star creds, she’s actually got a bit of acting experience in her earlier years and brings an engaging charm to Seung-yeon. She plays a familiar archetype in this bumbling type of heroine, but for once she’s not a slapstick klutz who bubbles with forced energy like a hummingbird on crack. She has a natural air, and her acting actually reminds me of the late Jung Da-bin (RIP), which I mean in a good way. Down-to-earth rather than over-the-top.

As you all know, I love me some Kang Ji-hwan. However, I think I’d have the same reaction to this drama if his role were played by someone else, and that’s saying something — I was drawn in right away, and smiled throughout the entire first episode. That isn’t to say he doesn’t add to the role, because it’s Kang Ji-hwan and I just know he’s got all sorts of comedic and dramatic talents just waiting to be tapped into (they haven’t been used that much yet), but the character is intriguing enough that I’d even be interested if he were played by a lesser actor. (Of course, Kang Ji-hwan DOES make it better.)

Jin-soo is a character I don’t know that I’ve seen before, or at least not in recent years. I don’t know about you all, but I’m a little tired of the whole Mr. Darcy craze, despite loving practically every incarnation of the uptight, irritable and misunderstood hero that comes my way. It’s just that it’s time we moved away from that type, because you can only sit through so many Grumpy Heroes With A Heart Of Gold before you tire of it. And I love that Jin-soo is a difficult guy, but that he’s entirely capable of pouring on the charm. When he cares to. What’s the source of his erratic behavior? It’s not self-destructive, so we’re not dealing with a damaged Gu Jun-pyo here. Is he just quirky? Or is there a greater reason for it? I want to know!

And, surprise of all surprises, I find Park Shi-yeon quite endearing and very cute in this. Who knew? As I’ve said lots of times before, I like to base my judgment of an actor’s performance on the work itself rather than making excuses for subpar work like “Come on, it was just a first role” or “At least s/he tried.” So I don’t feel bad about disliking her for a legitimately bad performance in My Girl — but I sorta feel bad for Park, because I feel like she had a few things stacked against her that made fans decide to dislike her from the start, regardless of performance. For starters, the Miss Korea contestant tag is often slung around with some condescension, and it didn’t help that around the time she made her acting debut, she was dating one of the hottest kpop stars around (Eric) and was known as The (Hated) Girlfriend more than anything else. Girl never had a chance.

But she’s steadily improved, and while I didn’t love her performance in Story of a Man, it was much better. And now, as the vivacious Eun-young, she positively radiates. She sparks onscreen, and I really want to like her. I do like her.

Can’t wait to see how this one turns out.

Page 2 Recap

After telling Seung-yeon the truth about her job, Jin-soo makes coffee to his precise specifications while Seung-yeon stews over how incredibly rude he is. The phone rings, and as usual he lets it go to voicemail on speakerphone. Out booms Do-sang’s voice, saying that Seung-yeon had called to complain about not being given any work. Do-sang describes hers as a pitiable situation — all her schoolmates have gotten full-time employment, plus she got dumped by her boyfriend of three years — and urges Jin-soo to give her work to stop her suspicions.

And that, my friends, is what we call rubbing salt in the wound. Actually, it’s like mixing that salt with rubbing alcohol and soaking the wound in it. Then taking a picture. And uploading it to Facebook with the caption “Seung-yeon is gullible and stupid.”

For the moment, her embarrassment gets forgotten as she sees Jin-soo making coffee in a fancy machine, and asks if he always makes it with such precision and care. Was he a barista in a previous job? He answers that he learned because nobody else could match his taste, so he figured he’d match it himself. (Ah, a man after my own heart — I know that dissatisfaction well. Yeah, I know Kang Ji-hwan is not Lee Jin-soo, but I can conflate my love for both.)

On her way home, Seung-yeon leaves an angry message for Do-sang, telling him not to worry about her — who is he to give her that money? Has she ever asked for money? Is he that careless with 10 million won to throw it around like that?

Eun-young finds herself showered with roses from random passersby on the street outside her office, and by the time she makes it back inside, she’s got an armful of them. Bewildered as to who could have sent them, she tries to make out the sender line on a recent postcard from Hong Kong, guessing that it’s from the same person. The name on the card has been obscured in transit and she scratches at it.

Her flattered good mood takes a sudden dive when she thinks of a possibility. Surely… it can’t be…!

Ah, but it is. HAN JI-WON (Jung Woong-in) makes his appearance, bold as brass and totally impervious to Eun-young’s reaction, which can best be described as speechless with outrage. He’s the ex-fiance who’d ditched her for a friend, but there’s no hint of shame in his re-entrance into her life. They haven’t seen each other in two years, and he announces that he has moved into the consulting firm next door as though expecting Eun-young to be thrilled with this. The guy is either really ballsy or totally deluded. With the gleefully loopy way Jung Woong-in portrays him, it could really be either.

Completely flummoxed, Eun-young tries to get in touch with Jin-soo, but getting him on the phone is like trying to catch an eel with chopsticks: Even if you did somehow manage to get a hold of it, it would just overpower you and wriggle free anyway. First Jin-soo hangs up on her, then he throws the phone in the trash.

Now incensed, Eun-young storms into his office (which is located just above the book cafe, provided courtesy of the publisher) using an emergency key. Can’t he act with a modicum of respect to her, his publisher? Jin-soo sighs and says in an exaggerated, put-upon demeanor: “I apologize, Ms. CEO. What seems to be the problem? What astounding event has occurred for you to rant to a person who is working to avoid being served another lawsuit? I don’t believe I have committed any sin but for working diligently to wring what I can out of my lack in talent.” Oh, you wiseass. I love that he’s cheeky.

Eun-young sighs that they’ve known each other for ten years — can’t he just listen? To that, Jin-soo so thoughtfully reminds her of the words she’d tossed in his face when she was toasting his lawsuit — in that scene, he’d reminded her of their long-standing relationship, and she’d scoffed that they’re merely business associates, and sometimes enemies.

With his smartassery out of his system, Jin-soo offers to listen, but now she’s calmed down and tells him to forget it. He asks what’s the deal with the flower in her hands, which makes her realize in horror that she’s still holding one. Immediately, she stomps on it, then does the same with the others in the bouquet. Gotta say, I’m loving this hot-tempered Park Shi-yeon.

Do-sang gets back from his trip and turns on his phone to hear Seung-yeon’s angry message. Immediately, he calls Jin-soo to demand to know what’s going on, and hears that Seung-yeon hasn’t been back to “work” for a week now. Do-sang freaks out, not at all receptive to Jin-soo’s retort that he should be thankful for getting the truth out in the open — now that she’s single, it’s good that she knows Do-sang likes her. Do-sang yells petulantly, “I’m not thankful at all!”

But there’s still the issue of the money to take care of, and Jin-soo just wants to get rid of it and wash his hands of the matter. Do-sang insists that it’s for Seung-yeon, but she would hardly accept the charity. So Jin-soo drops by the coffee shop, where Seung-yeon has returned to her part-time work.

He finds her adjusting the misspelled “Caffee” sign, and although he points out that they could simply replace the “A” with an “O,” she says that getting an extra letter would cost money. Hence she’s removing letters to spell “Cafe” instead.

Offering to wait inside while she finishes, Jin-soo borrows the phone and makes a call, just as Seung-yeon loses her footing on the ladder, which crashes to the ground. Barely hanging on to a light fixture, she cries for help, and Jin-soo bolts outside, arms outstretched…

…just in time to break her fall. And possibly his back. Definitely his pride.

But even in this situation, the ever-polite Jin-soo tamps down his aggravation and forces a smile, asking her politely to call someone for him. He has landed on top of the light fixture and lays sprawled in the street, unable to move. I’m betting he’s thinking to himself, “What could possibly get worse?” because then, it starts to rain. Of course.

Back in her office, Eun-young vents to her friend on the phone, bemoaning the fact that her reaction to the flowers made her lose face in front of all her employees. Calming down, she tells herself to gain her composure and listens to soothing music with a cup of coffee, looking outside the window at the view of the rain. And also her new next-door neighbor.

Jin-soo’s polite facade is tested by the pushy members of the Kang family, who pester him for autographs (Seung-chul), force him into an ugly vest because of his rain-soaked clothes (Grandma), press some godawful instant coffee (horrors!) upon him (Dad), and attack him with medicinal spray (Grandma again).

Seung-yeon won’t accept the rest of the money owed to Do-sang — 9 million won — and resists Jin-soo’s exasperated instructions to work it out with Do-sang. Jin-soo offers a sort of compromise — she can continue to “work” for him and accept it as her salary. Her family would like that, and he can stop resenting his buddy for his meddling. But that still means she wouldn’t be doing any real work, as she points out to him, and she can’t accept money for doing nothing.

When Seung-yeon gets called away for a minute, Jin-soo takes advantage of the moment to tell Grandma something, then makes his hurried getaway. Seung-yeon sees that the envelope is no longer on the table, so she assumes he has taken it back.

Until, that is, she hears Granny counting, and peers over to see that Jin-soo has slipped her the money, calling it severance pay. Sneaky bastard. It’s so much money that Grandma gasps in awe even before realizing she has dropped a zero.

Seung-yeon races out in the rain to chase the taxi, and pleads with Jin-soo to settle upon a different compromise — make proper use of her as an employee. In fact, if she can’t do a satisfactory job, he doesn’t have to pay her at all. She insists, “I want to become a pro!” And I’m sure I’m not the only one thinking she’d best be careful with those words — they could take on a vastly different meaning in a different context, if ya know what I mean.

Jin-soo tells her not to bother — it’s impossible to satisfy his persnickety preferences, and he has no faith that she’ll be able to no matter how hard she promises to try. Getting worked up, Seung-yeon declares that she’ll become such a perfect pro that he’ll be dying to hire her.

Well, that’s going overboard and she winces after saying it, but Jin-soo motions her into the car — he’s giving her a chance. But he smirks a bit when he asks her to define what a pro is, and all she can do is fumble and say that it’s the opposite of amateur.

The next morning, Seung-yeon arrives while Jin-soo and Eun-young sit outside the cafe and greets them both. Eun-young sizes up the situation and says that Jin-soo’s awfully mean to bring her back just so he can have someone to take out his stress upon, which just goes to show how well she knows him.

Ji-won pauses in the street to call out a greeting to Jin-soo and invite him to lunch, after which he drives off with a salute and a wink. This is all news to Jin-soo — when the heck did this guy move back to Seoul, and why is he as cheesy as ever? Mimicking his wave makes Eun-young burst into laughter and spray her coffee all over his face. Ah, the spit-take — one of the oldest comedic devices in the book, and yet, no less amusing.

Seung-yeon has come early to ask the book cafe baristas for a lesson on brewing coffee, taking notes as they demonstrate. She then makes coffee according to her new tips, and studies Jin-soo’s pencils in minute detail to note exactly how deeply he carves the wood and how many times.

He still throws away most of her batch, but at least two pencils survive his inspection this time — progress! But when he drinks her coffee, he spits it back out and asks sardonically, “Surely you didn’t mean for me to drink this and die, did you?”

For her first day as a proper employee, Seung-yeon is no longer relegated to reading pointless encyclopedias, but her new task is hardly more pleasant. Jin-soo sets a helium tank in front of her, instructing her to inhale the gas, then read his dialogue.

A bit apprehensively, she does as told, and her Mickey Mouse voice sends him into fits of laughter. Feeling misused, she protests, but her indignant exclamations come out in a squeaky pitch and only make him laugh even harder.

Next he makes her hula-hoop while he works, and finally she guesses his M.O.: he’s doing this just to laugh at her, isn’t he? Jin-soo points out that a secretary’s biggest task is to help the boss relieve stress. That’s the difference between amateur and pro — an amateur gets angry and quits while the pro takes it like, well, a pro.

She mutters that the author of such unique novels was bound to be a weirdo. But how to know that he’s just weird, and not a true psycho? Seung-yeon watches The Shining that evening, unnerved to see the writer breaking under the stress and going crazy. Seung-chul helpfully points out that that’s why she has to make sure Jin-soo doesn’t get too stressed. This is not a comforting thought, as she hadn’t realized she’d have to worry about not being murdered by a crazy boss when she took up this job.

Ji-won’s an odd (but hilarious) character in that he’s fairly shameless. He acts like he’s on great terms with Jin-soo and Eun-young, not seeing that they’re obviously uncomfortable with him — and given how very obvious they are with their disdain, we have to wonder if he’s blind. Or dumb. This is a question we’ll be asking ourselves throughout the episode.

Furthermore, he has the chutzpah to spin the situation around and make it seem like HE was the victim in the relationship, saying that he’s ready to forgive Eun-young despite all the hurt she gave him. He’s got the whole situation flipped upside down, and Jin-soo’s comments flip them back right-side up; he replies that it’s more appropriate to say that Ji-won’s the one who hurt her, and she’s the one who’d have to forgive him.

Ji-won just laughs, not offended at all, thinking Jin-soo’s a funny guy for making such a joke. However, the mood takes a sudden serious turn when Ji-won quips that Jin-soo should help him since he “must have a lot of regrets.”

Next on Seung-yeon’s list of Tasks to Perform To Transform From Amateur to Professional is the capture of a feral cat. Who knows why Jin-soo wants a cat, but he’s pretty much got a penchant for random demands, and this is just another one of them.

She and brother Seung-chul fail to capture a neighborhood stray, but Dad manages to bring home a cat bought from a friend. It’s not actually a stray, but they figure they can disguise the domesticated cat as a feral one by messing with its appearance. Thus they get it muddied, and then Grandmother shaves its fur off in patches (and I’m thankful they didn’t show the actual shaving).

(By the way, this scene elicited not a little outrage from fans, who felt the cat was mistreated. Lemme tell ya, as a fairly new cat-servant myself, I found myself squirming in my seat even though I knew this was coming. I am not impressed, Drama Gods! In fact, I’m demoting you to demigods. Or maybe just fairies.)

In any case, it’s all for naught because Jin-soo sees right away that it’s not a feral cat. When she insists that it is, he presents her with cat food and cat-related research. And cat books. And cat novels. Yeah, you’re not gonna fool the cat enthusiast with some half-assed shave job, kiddo. (Also: Jin-soo loves cats! As though I weren’t already halfway in love with him, now I’m convinced we are soulmates. What? Love can transcend dimensions, don’t judge.)

Seung-yeon weakly counters that a housecat can become a feral one, so it’s almost the same thing. Jin-soo points out that her “almost as good” theory is why she can’t sharpen a simple pencil to satisfaction — a housecat that’s 99% similar to a feral cat is still a housecat. If she was going to lie, she should have stuck to her guns and brazened it out, because then he could have called her a pro for the lie.

Jin-soo calls Eun-young to invite her to dinner, which strikes her as odd coming from He Who Eschews All Telephone Communications. What I love about the next scene is that Jin-soo tries multiple times to clue Eun-young in to the situation, asking pointedly, “Yes, WHY would I do such a strange thing? THINK about it.” He even makes that silly salute gesture and winks furtively, trying to signal her to turn away.

But she doesn’t get his drift and joins him in the car, only to find that the meeting has been engineered by Ji-won. She calls Jin-soo a traitor for leading her into the trap, while he grumbles that it’s her fault for not finding his behavior more suspicious.

Ji-won finds it odd that these two are so close now, and Jin-soo retorts that appearance of an outsider makes the insiders band together. At that, Ji-won asks, “Who’s the outsider? Huh? Oh, North Korea?” Snerk. Maybe he really IS stupid?

Jin-soo and Eun-young don’t even bother correcting him, but Jin-soo does ask incredulously how she could have been engaged to the guy. She replies that she was really immature (read: stupid and maybe crazy) back then. Plus, Jin-soo’s the one who introduced them, remember? At that, Jin-soo mutters, “I must’ve been incredibly immature too.”

The car pauses at a red light, which is when Jin-soo sees his chance. Leaving Eun-young with a cryptic “Sorry,” he jumps out and dashes to safety, leaving her shouting after him. Ji-won, on the other hand, doesn’t hate this turn of events. In fact, things couldn’t have turned out better if he’d planned it himself. Given his questionable intelligence, I’d say he’s lucky the smart guy in the party gave him a hand here.


Jin-soo returns to his office, and soon has a visitor: Seung-yeon bangs on his door enthusiastically and presents him with a cage containing a cat — a real feral cat this time, not a fake one. She’s covered in claw marks and mud, but brimming with pride at her first real “pro”-like accomplishment.

Too bad Jin-soo informs her that his one isn’t feral, either. Seung-yeon feels wrongfully accused and tells him she caught it all on her own, insisting that it’s a real feral cat or she’s a monkey’s uncle. Jin-soo doesn’t doubt that she worked hard to get it, but he says they can’t do anything about it — a housecat is a housecat.

Seung-yeon is so incensed that she declares that if it’s not really feral, she’ll take her clothes off and dance around for him. And as we know, you should never make promises you can’t keep to Jin-soo, right?

And so, they go to the vet for an expert opinion and await his judgment. And when it comes — it’s not a feral cat — Seung-yeon can’t take it and runs out just as Jin-soo ponders where and how she’ll dance for him.

The vet continues to inspect the cat and marvels — how’d she catch this on her own? Jin-soo’s satisfaction is cut short when the vet clarifies that it’s not a stray cat — it is, in fact, a lynx. As in, a true wildcat, of a different classification than housecats and strays. Oops! Jin-soo was wrong after all, but his astonishment turns into amusement.

Meanwhile, Seung-yeon goes home to treat her wounds, crying more at the indignity than at the pain.

In the morning, she shows up to work with some hesitation, wondering how Jin-soo will treat her. Although she’s firmly convinced she was right, the vet’s declaration gives Jin-soo the upper hand. Therefore, she’s relieved to see him acting normally, thinking he’s letting this whole incident slide.

Until, that is, some cheesy pop music blares on — New Kids On The Block, omg for old people like me who recognize it! — and he holds up his remote triumphantly. This is the song. Now she will dance.

With resignation, Seung-yeon dances around to the song while Jin-soo sits back and watches. At the same time, Eun-young storms up to the office, ready to give him a piece of her mind for ditching her last night, and wonders at the loud music blaring from the room.

Now Jin-soo remembers the part where she declared that she’d dance naked, and reminds Seung-yeon in a bored voice like he’s asking for a mere book or a cup of coffee. He doesn’t really think she’s going to do it, and in fact, this whole thing is an exercise in his amusement. I’m pretty sure he’s just seeing how far to go because he knows he didn’t technically win the bet — so when Seung-yeon silently raises her shirt to take it off, he lurches forward yelling, “W-w-wait!”


COMMENTS

What makes this drama fun for me is, first and foremost, the relationship between Kang Ji-hwan and Park Shi-yeon. I love their dynamic, and how we can see the shades emerging even though the characters themselves haven’t defined what they are to each other. Or rather, they’ve actually overdefined it — publisher-author, potential plaintiff-defendant, old friends, enemies — and none of those descriptions fully embodies the true nature of their friendship. But I love seeing that there’s something there that spans multiple categories. True, they infuriate each other — and know how to push each other’s buttons — but there’s also grudging respect and camaraderie. Jin-soo’s loyalties are clearly aligned with Eun-young’s with regard to the wacky ex, and she goes to Jin-soo first to vent her anger about Ji-won’s sudden re-entry into her life. If they don’t end up together I will probably be disappointed, but even if so, I hope they end the series as good friends as they are now, or better.

The character of Seung-yeon is being portrayed in the typical mold of the main female character, but I don’t know that she actually IS. There were a lot of questions in the previous recap about who was the main character, and frankly, I don’t think it really matters how you define it — I mean, if you watch the drama and you’re happy with what you see, that’s good enough, right? I think it’s possible she will not hook up with Jin-soo, which would make the scenario akin to that of Ji Jin-hee and Kim So-eun in The Man Who Can’t Marry, as some commenters pointed out. Of course there’s always the chance that there will be romantic developments, but I don’t think this will be a typical love triangle (or square), and I’d like to see this drama treat the romances differently than what we’ve come to expect after watching a million and one trendy kdramas.

In this regard, I’m actually finding encouragement in the fact that the writer came from Unstoppable High Kick. Although I didn’t like everything in that series, some of the relationships were treated in a nicely subtle way. It had a way of giving the cute pairing a few moments that made you squeal, but also had a hint of realism in leaving a few threads loosely tied. This is a miniseries rather than 160+ episode sitcom so I’m expecting more definition in the relationships, but I’m just saying that it may not follow the norm, and that’s fine with me.

And have I mentioned how I love Park Shi-yeon’s energy level in this drama?


PAGE 3 RECAP

Jin-soo hurriedly stops Seung-yeon from stripping, shocked that she would take him seriously. In fact, he’s so shocked that he has to laugh at the ridiculousness. That’s when Eun-young rings the doorbell, prompting Jin-soo to hide, knowing she’s bound to take him to task for ditching her with Ji-won last night. He sneaks off to his room and instructs Seung-yeon to say he’s not at home.

This means Seung-yeon has to make up a story about dancing around to aerobics while Jin-soo is out, which doesn’t exactly make her look like the most respectful employee, but thankfully Eun-young doesn’t make too much of an issue of it. She does, however, find Seung-yeon’s coffee too awful to ignore, giving us another example of how she and Jin-soo are simpatico. Eun-young tosses out the brew she’s given and watches as Seung-yeon attempts a new batch.

Now, I consider myself somewhat picky about my coffee — I’ve also been known to toss out a really bad batch of coffee rather than drink it — but even I’m going to say your barista’s posture and the angle of the pour-over is taking it a bit far. Then again, Jin-soo DID warn her he was too picky for her abilities, so it’s not like she wasn’t warned.

In any case, Eun-young takes her down to the book cafe and piles a stack of coffee-related books into Seung-yeon’s arms, explaining that her grandfather was a coffee specialist who was a significant force in giving the drink a greater platform in Korea. Thus, if people treat coffee with disdain, it can feel like disrespect towards her grandfather. As a result, she gives Seung-yeon a homework assignment, cheerily informing her that even though she’s Jin-soo’s secretary, as the publishing CEO Eun-young technically pays her salary and therefore it’s not out of line for her to put her to work.

Seung-yeon says wryly to herself that now she gets why the two are friends.

On her way back upstairs, Seung-yeon runs into the book cafe manager Dong-wook (played by Park Jae-jung), whom she greets with some basic sign language she has taught herself after hearing that Dong-wook cannot speak. He’s the cool, reserved type so he just bows in return, looking nonplussed at her awkward signing of “Hello” and “Good work.” Seung-yeon, on the other hand, is quite proud of herself for getting to use her new skills.

Ji-won heads to the office with her, which is the only reason he manages to push his way into Jin-soo’s office. Although Jin-soo’s clearly not thrilled to see him, Ji-won is totally oblivious and expects Jin-soo to greet him with as much enthusiasm as the former has for him. If Ji-won were any denser, I’d expect him to have his own gravitational pull.

In addition to being as giddy as a schoolboy, Ji-won is just about as immature. Eager to show Jin-soo something he bought for Eun-young’s upcoming birthday, he leans in close, deliberately trying to hide it from Seung-yeon’s view because it’s a secret. Seung-yeon doesn’t really care what he’s got (nor can she hear their conversation), but she does relish the way Ji-won manhandles Jin-soo’s face. She urges him mentally to pinch harder. Heh.

Ji-won has bought a big gaudy sparkler of a necklace for Eun-young, anticipating that she’ll scream in delight. Jin-soo confirms that she’ll let out a scream, all right, but of a different variety.

Eager to use any excuse to escape this situation, Jin-soo leaps up when a cell phone rings, ignoring the fact that it’s Seung-yeon’s. He pretends the call is for him, and when he’s in the next room, he drops the act and tells her caller to try back soon.

This leaves Seung-yeon in the room with Ji-won, who thinks that Jin-soo hired her purely to hit on her and comments that his taste is skewing a lot younger. He tells her that if Jin-soo gives her a hard time, let him know — he’ll set him straight. He went to high school and university with Jin-soo as his sunbae, and they were great buddies — along with Jin-soo’s wife.

Wait, wha–? That’s a shocker. Jin-soo was married (and divorced)? Ji-won figures the news never made it out because it happened before he hit it big.

Listening from the other room, Jin-soo’s expression darkens, and after Ji-won leaves, he informs Seung-yeon that Ji-won is strictly forbidden from entry here. He scoffs at Ji-won calling them friends, muttering, “I’ve never been friends with him.”

Seung-yeon tries to sneak in some internet searches about Jin-soo being married or divorced, braving Jin-soo’s constant staring, which unnerves her. But her searches yield nothing; it’s truly a well-kept secret.

Then he decides that they’ll head out, and without explaining things, they end up at a department store. He’s here to buy her an outfit, for what purpose nobody knows, least of all Seung-yeon. But if you’re groaning at what looks like the makings of a trite Pretty Woman montage, rest easy — this shopping trip takes a decidedly different turn.

First he has Seung-yeon try on one outfit, which he finds dissatisfactory because it’s too loose. He wants something more fitted, and asks the sales clerk to take more precise measurements in order to alter the garment to fit better. I’m thinking this guy’s about to take a step in to pervy territory by demanding his assistant wear tight clothing, but thankfully the drama doesn’t fail me here — in fact, this is just a big excuse for him to get Seung-yeon’s measurements, which he swipes from the notepad.

I suppose that might still be construed as skeevy behavior, if not for his next trip — the luggage department — where he holds up a suitcase to her frame to compare it to her torso. We’re still not quite certain what the deal is, but he does take the opportunity to take a few digs at her very odd proportions, which he declares all out of whack. And all the while, Seung-yeon is so bewildered that she doesn’t know if she should be surprised or offended.

On their way back to the office, Dong-wook sees Seung-yeon struggling with the luggage, and silently takes it to carry up for her. She thanks him, again using her newly acquired signing skills while mouthing along, “Thank you.”

And then, we find out what this whole shopping excursion was really about:

Bwahaha! The measuring and comparing were all to see if Seung-yeon would fit inside the luggage, and he instructs her to get inside. When she balks, he reminds her about all that stuff she said about being a pro. Well, how about she get in the bag like a pro?

In she goes. Resigning herself to whatever craziness he’s got in mind, Seung-yeon sighs for him to go ahead. He snaps some photos, then hands her her phone, telling her to call him from inside the bag. After confirming that she’s not suffocating, he zips her up.

But wouldn’t you know it? Just as she’s about to dial, she receives an incoming call — it’s from her family, who have attended a wedding in the neighborhood and have decided to drop by. Seung-chul and Dad have some sense and wonder if they’d be interrupting the writer’s work (well, if we take a pretty loose definition of “work”), but Grandma says there’s nothing wrong with seeing her granddaughter in action and pushes them onward.

Yikes! Before they know it, the visitors are at the door. Jin-soo tries to yank Seung-yeon out of the suitcase, but she’s lodged in there tightly and can’t work her way out, not that their panic helps things any. With the family calling from the hallway and no chance of getting Seung-yeon out anytime soon, Jin-soo wheels her into the bedroom, then opens the door.

He tries to get rid of them, but Korean grannies aren’t exactly ones to take a hint, and she pushes their way inside. She also presses a gift on him — an ugly cardigan — that he accepts uneasily.

Jin-soo tells them that Seung-yeon is out on an errand that will take her far away, which means she won’t be back until late. However, they notice that her things are still here, and wonder how she could have gone so far without all her belongings.

In a nervous outburst, Jin-soo reaches for the cardigan as a diversionary tactic and squeals (yep, literally squeals!) in “excitement” as he pulls it on. Alas, the distraction is only temporary; Seung-chul reaches for his phone and calls his sister, whose phone begins to ring from the other room.

Hurriedly, Seung-yeon tries to reach for her phone to turn it off, but in her cramped position she can’t maneuver her way to the phone and topples over. The Kang family hears the sound and points to the room. Jin-soo tries to cover up for it and heads to the room, but he’s stopped by the sound of the doorbell. Forced to answer it (it’s Eun-young), his detour to the door allows for the family to follow the sound of the ringing phone to the spare room.

Jin-soo knows it’s all over, so he bangs his head against the wall while the family tries to make sense of why Seung-yeon is on the floor, crammed into a suitcase.

Enter Eun-young to the rescue! Swooping in, she introduces herself to the family and explains that Jin-soo is currently working on this really exciting mystery-murder novel, and this is all research. She soothes their concerns over coffee as she tells them about the serial murders that occur when a group of women tourists travel to Ulleungdo (the island where Jin-soo got his idea). Apparently the killer hacks up the bodies and puts them in suitcases: hence Jin-soo’s curiosity to see if Seung-yeon would fit. Hahaha.

Thanks to Eun-young’s intervention, the family isn’t outright angry with him, but the incident is still enough to give them serious misgivings about Jin-soo’s mental state. Eun-young wonders if Jin-soo’s going to end up sued, and somehow she looks more excited at this possibility than worried. (I love her.)

No surprise that Seung-yeon’s father calls that night to tell him that she won’t be able to work for him anymore. Seung-yeon protests and makes a grab for the phone, handing it to Grandma and telling her to hang up quickly before Dad continues his conversation. Too bad Granny doesn’t know what she’s doing with that newfangled phonegadgetry, and she pushes a button or two and puts the phone down. Instead of hanging up, that keeps Jin-soo on the line, and therefore the family’s conversation comes through loud and clear as he and Eun-young listen in:

Dad asks if the writer is crazy, to which Seung-yeon answers that he’s not entirely wacko. With a sigh, she says that after observing him for a few days, she thinks he’s on the brink of insanity. (Jin-soo’s offended, while Eun-young cracks up.) So basically, in Seung-yeon’s estimation Jin-soo isn’t a permanent resident in the land of crazy — more like a frequent visitor with a traveler’s visa.

Granny comments that he’s good-looking and therefore a good person. Lol.

Eun-young wonders if Seung-yeon will show up to work tomorrow, and Jin-soo predicts that she will, saying that Seung-yeon has “one strong point,” and that’s that she’s foolish. That’s an odd comment, but he clarifies, “That’s a big advantage if she’s going to work for me.”

Sure enough, she shows up the next morning, her coffee as bad as ever (he quips that it’s becoming more and more like poison every day).

Jin-soo can’t resist making a dig at Seung-yeon’s comment last night about his mental stability. Using her specific words immediately clues her in that he’d heard what she said, and she cringes in dismay while he rolls those words around again and again in amusement.

That evening, Eun-young’s employees present her with a surprise birthday party, dragging her from her office to the event. Everything has been planned in detail, and all of her friends are gathered in the audience. Jin-soo is also invited, but he sends Seung-yeon along with the employees first, saying he’ll be there later.

Blindfolded, Eun-young is seated in the guest of honor’s spot, and wonders who is responsible for this whole shindig, just as the sounds of a piano start up. The smile fades mighty fast, however, when she recognizes the voice: Ji-won’s.

He serenades her as a photo montage starts up on the projection screen behind her, and bubbles float from the ceiling — a cheesily romantic event worthy of a cheesy guy like Ji-won.

Eun-young rolls her eyes in exasperation, but plasters a big smile on her face as she stands up and heads over to the piano, where she takes his mic away while he’s still mid-song. Rather than throwing a fit, she takes charge with a smile, greeting her friends and acting as her own host. She welcomes everyone warmly and kicks off the festivities, which has the dual effect of maintaining the cheery atmosphere while also taking control away from Ji-won, who pouts to be thus undermined.

Only after the party is safely under way does Eun-young shoot a glare at him and tell him he has no right to sing that song.

And then she goes to the bathroom with her doctor friend (Byung-hee) to scream in frustration. I love that she was so professional and in control out there, and then comes inside to whine and moan like a teenager with her best friend. Apparently Ji-won told all her friends that they’d gotten back together and that she’d forgiven him. He’d insisted the party was a surprise, which is why her friends didn’t warn her about what he had said.

Bummed at losing his spot helming the big event, Ji-won gets drunk and calls Jin-soo to whine to come and support him. He crashes Eun-young’s table as she’s opening gifts to present her with his birthday gift, but she dashes away for a business call to avoid that awkward moment. He joins her anyway, following her to the office while she makes her call.

By the time Jin-soo makes it to the party, it’s in the latter stages and Eun-young is nowhere around. He hears that she headed back to her office and goes to find her.

Meanwhile, Ji-won makes his drunken complaints of how Eun-young is too well-off, too successful and self-sufficient. She makes everyone feel inferior, which is why she’s remained single all these years, right? He bets that no men have made passes at her because they can’t handle her. Which… seems to me to be THEIR failing, not hers, but Ji-won seems to be operating on chauvinistic gender ideals.

In fact, he says that the reason he couldn’t bring himself to apologize all these years “is because of you.” Huh. And here I’m thinking it’s because he’s got insecurity issues — don’t you love it when the wrongdoer makes his wrongdoing into your fault? He takes out the sparkly necklace and tells her it was expensive, but sees how she’s not moved in the least. (You know, since I suppose we’re all supposed to swoon in gratitude when cheating exes shower us in jewels?)

In contrast, he points out, Young-mi (who must clearly be the Other Woman) was grateful for the little things he did for her, unlike Eun-young who isn’t moved at even the big gestures.

Well, he finally hits a nerve — but not the one he was meaning to hit — and it’s obvious that this Young-mi woman is a huge sore point between them. That look on her face? It’s pure OH NO HE DI’N'T. Even in his drunken haze, Ji-won registers that he screwed up royally and quickly backpedals. But the damage is done.

Eun-young can’t help the tears from springing to her eyes, and she looks at him in a mix of hurt and revulsion. He knows he’s just shot himself in the foot and starts to leave.

Which is when Jin-soo bursts in just as Ji-won goes for the door, and knocks the door into him. That sends Ji-won sprawling to the ground, and the other two briefly worry that he’s hurt. But nope — just sleeping.

Sensing the strained mood, Jin-soo fumbles in his pocket for a birthday gift, but he has nothing to offer her. Eun-young knows him well enough to guess that he purposely came to the party late because he know what would go down, and accuses, “Jerk — is everything fine as long as you’re comfortable? You and he are just the same.”

Bitterly, she mutters, “I really hate it,” the “it” being the whole situation of having Ji-won back and going to work next door and having to deal with him again. She wishes she could send him far away… and that gives Jin-soo an idea. Since he came empty-handed to her party, he asks if he can offer this as his birthday present, and proceeds to get the ball rolling by depositing Ji-won in a taxi and paying the driver to take him far away.

Seung-yeon has plenty to drink at the party and gets on a bus to go home, which carries another passenger from the same party — mute manager Dong-wook. She sleeps most of the way and jolts awake at the last minute, and alights from the bus half-asleep.

Dong-wook disembarks behind her and grabs her arm just as she stumbles, and tells her, “Be careful.” With that, he heads off.

It takes Seung-yeon a moment to register the import of this moment — he spoke! — and she gapes after him, then decides she must have imagined it in her drunken and sleepy daze.

In the morning, Ji-won wakes up to the sun beating on his face and slowly gets his bearings. He’s lying down… on the grass… in his suit… in a field of bleating sheep?

He has no phone, no wallet, and no recollection of how he came to be here. He staggers along the empty road until he comes upon a bus stop, where he sees a lone grandma sitting on a bench. He asks to know where he is, but it’s such a remote backwater that the name of the location doesn’t even ring a bell.

He begs for change to make a phone call, and gratefully accepts her coin. Unfortunately, in his eagerness to run to the nearest pay phone, he drops the coin, which rolls down the hill to plop into a pool of stagnant water.

Seung-yeon arrives at Jin-soo’s office in the morning, ready to greet Dong-wook with her usual signed hello. But to her shock, he answers Jin-soo’s question readily, perfectly able to speak (albeit with an accent). Stunned speechless (ironically?), she stands frozen as Dong-wook returns the signed hello, then remarks on his way out, “You’re here.”

Confused, Seung-yeon asks Jin-soo for clarification — so he wasn’t mute? She’s sure the cafe workers said he couldn’t speak! (I think it’s more accurate to say that they said he didn’t speak. Ah, it’s the little things that’ll get ya!) Jin-soo merely figures they said that because he’s a man of few words.

Ji-won uses his precious call to contact Jin-soo, who goes down to the cafe and promises to show Eun-young something really funny. She doesn’t know what he’s talking about until Ji-won pulls up to the cafe in a cab, and steps out looking like an utter mess — feet caked in manure, clothes wrinkled, hair disheveled, the works.

Eun-young suppresses a laugh as Jin-soo launches into concerned-friend mode, gasping to see him looking like a mess as though he hadn’t had everything to do with it. What happened? Surely he wasn’t abducted by a UFO or anything?

Ji-won is almost paranoid enough to take that leap, but right now he’s got other concerns, like washing the manure stink off him. Jin-soo pays the cab driver, and Ji-won heads off to clean up.

As he turns, he sees Eun-young watching with amusement. Well, that’s just humiliating, so he puts on some bravado and gives her his trademark wink-salute. (She returns the gesture wryly.)

Turns out that Jin-soo sent him to Daegwallyeong, which is a few hours’ drive from Seoul to the east. I know you could interpret Jin-soo’s prank as pretty mean, and yeah, I have that thought too, but I’m willing to go with the lighthearted tone of this move, particularly as Jin-soo did it entirely to cheer Eun-young up. (She’d hardly do such a childish thing herself, but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy the spoils.)

Amused at the joke but also touched at the gesture, Eun-young gives Jin-soo a sincere “Thanks” — which is just heartfelt enough to take him aback a little.

She adds, in a lighter tone, “I really love my birthday present. It’s awesome!” With a big thumbs-up, she says, “Thank you!”

As Jin-soo prepares to head out, he smiles that there’s more on the way: “You like sequels. Look forward to it.”


COMMENTS

Like I said, I’m really getting a kick out of this drama — the off-kilter situations, the erratic behavior from Jin-soo (which is totally random and crazy-looking to the outside viewer but operates on its own brand of weird logic), and the hilarious facial expressions, which I find endearing but not too exaggerated to feel corny. I love comedy that is situational, more than the gag-based or slapstick variety, and so far Coffee House is fulfilling my need.

Also, I think this episode really sets us up for the pairings of Seung-yeon and the manager Dong-wook, as well as Jin-soo and Eun-young. If we get a Seung-yeon/Jin-soo loveline, I won’t be surprised or upset, but based on the dynamics so far, I’m really liking him with Eun-young. We’ve all noted that the cliche is to pair him with Seung-yeon, and while I’m not averse to cliches in and of themselves, I love exploring alternate routes, and in this drama the alternate route is much more endearing to me. It’s especially noticeable in the last scene, when there are very small undertones of this couple having more feelings for each other — deep under the surface — than they’re letting on, but it’s also visible in previous scenes too. Like when Eun-young and Jin-soo listen to the phone call together on speakerphone, or when Jin-soo comes to the party and sees her crying.

I wonder if this whole bad timing thing was their issue — he was married, and then she was engaged — but whatever the history, I’m invested in finding out what it was.

And honestly, how cute is Seung-yeon with Dong-wook, right? They’re infinitely more appealing than a Jin-soo pairing at this stage, and the goofy way their relationship gets started has got to be one of the cuter ways to get a couple set up, right? It adds an oddball charm to that couple that a straightforward Seung-yeon/Jin-soo coupling lacks.

But anyway. Onward to Page 4!