I’ve come full circle with this drama, Flower Boy Ramen Shop.

Like my introduction to K-pop, my love affair with K-dramas began in high school, and Flower Boy Ramen Shop was the one that popped my cherry, so to speak. Maybe this speaks to my immaturity, but many of the issues went over my head and straight into the garbage—the same place this drama should have gone.

Flower Boy Ramen Shop simply did not age well. Perhaps I was too enamored with Cha Chi Soo to spot the glaring red flags at the time.

Like most romantic dramas, this drama features your typical love triangle. In this case, the rivals are Chi Soo, a spoiled brat with the silver spoon shoved so far down his throat that I’m the one gagging, and Choi Kang Hyuk, aka the Sleepy Giant, a kid whose life Eun Bi’s father once saved and later bequeathed the ramen shop to.

Behind Kang Hyuk’s silly act is a man worth his weight in gold. If I were Yang Eun Bi, I would’ve chosen him in a heartbeat. He’s stable, kind, and age-appropriate. It doesn’t hurt that he’s a tall glass of water.

That being said, this brings me to my first pain point.

Eun Bi should have been fired and put on watch as a child abuser.

The moment she realized he was a student—one of hers, no less—Chi Soo should have dropped off her radar.

Her long-time friend and coworker, Kang Dong Joo, has the right idea. In essence, she says:

“…to survive as a teacher, you can’t take the actions of these students seriously.”

But no, not Eun Bi.

She persists in pursuing Cha Chi Soo until she “inadvertently” hears him talking trash about her. (Cue the product placement for some fancy water.)

Offended, Eun Bi confronts Chi Soo about toying with people’s feelings.

Again, these are the actions of a teenager.

But why shouldn’t he have been trolling her?

She’s an old lady creeping on a child.

You can argue that Chi Soo is, in fact, eighteen and legally an adult, but he isn’t mature.

We’re talking about a guy who throws tantrums if he doesn’t get his way and, worse yet, places no value on human emotions. Just look at the manner in which he relates to Crazy Chicken’s girlfriend. (Don’t get me started on that hussy.)

This may not be entirely Chi Soo’s fault.

His father has this notion that:

“Cha Chi Soo must not feel pain.”

Which brings me to my next point.

By shielding Chi Soo from life’s problems, and even more importantly, the consequences of his actions, his father isn’t doing him any favors.

On many occasions, Chi Soo shows blatant disrespect toward authority figures, all of which is ignored by his father.

I wanted to slap the man and say:

“Um, sir, you are raising a hellion. A little demon just waiting to be unleashed on the world.”

For example, when he tried to help his friend Woo Hyun Woo with the loan sharks, Kim Ba Wool, aka Crazy Chicken’s friends, were attacked by mistake.

And what was his remedy?

That fake card with his name on it.

Because money fixes everything, duh.

Lol.

I can imagine how perplexed he felt when they didn’t readily accept his offerings and instead attacked him.

(Personally, I would’ve taken the money, but I guess that’s just me, right?)

You know, it is kind of scary to think that with all that money backing him, Cha Chi Soo is practically untouchable.

If he wanted to, he could probably get away with anything just short of murder, no?

I know the whole premise of the drama is that Eun Bi is supposed to love Cha Chi Soo despite his immaturity, but to me it only highlights how immature she is.

It just comes off as weird.

Imagine if the roles were reversed. People would really be giving Yoon Nan-Joong the side-eye—at least they should.

I’m kind of disappointed that it was Nan-Joong who wrote this crap.

Anypoops, this is my two cents on the drama.

I’m feeling uncharacteristically generous today.

Are two rose petals too much?