While wandering the gangrenous streets of Ossington/Queen West in a poorly chosen skirt and giving up on trying to find Happy Baby/Baby Huey/Happy Child/Joyous Toddler (or whatever the fuck those places are called), you find yourself at Odd Seoul once again, and you're okay with that because it's a great place to go if you just got a little too 'turnt' on complimentary art opening wine and need to go hard into some miniature snacks laced with mouthwatering Korean fusion flavours like kimchi on your poutine, but this time you opt for the feature fried tofu squares with buffalo sauce (amazing, btw) and you're fooled by the 'slaw' that should be called 'green salad', and then due some overzealous vaping you order an 'odd seoul' when you meant 'odd fashioned', which is a nicely spiced spin on the original, just as your friend tells you you can challenge the bartender's obscure cocktail making skills and never be disappointed (unsubstantiated) and bonus: go to stall number two and consult the wall behind the toilet for the greatest bathroom poem of all time.