A Korean, a Hawaiian, a Filipino, and a Chinaman walk into a taco joint. (I feel the need to do this from time to time: listen to the youngsters talk.)
“I don’t date Asians,” the Korean declares. I remember hearing this spiel when I first met him a year and a half ago.
“Why not?” asks the Hawaiian.
“White girls are just more fun,” he replies. “I mean, if we’re drinking? No Asian girl is gonna keep up with me.” (The script has not really changed. I give him a year or two before he decides to revise it.)
The waiter brings a Pacifico for the Hawaiian, a Negra Modelo for the Filipino, and a Flower Power IPA for me. Nothing for the Korean; he’s driving. After dinner, he’s off to meet up with (wait for it…) a white girl.
The Hawaiian tells us about one of her girlfriends who recently told a guy to back off after he played the I-thought-we’re-more-than-just-friends-aren’t-we? card.
“Man, that’s cold,” says the Filipino. “Why she gonna send mixed signals like that?”
“It’s not her fault,” the Hawaiian counters. “She just thought he got that she wasn’t interested in him in that way. You can’t blame her if the guy is clueless.”
“Naw naw, man, that’s on her. How he supposed to read that?”
The Korean turns to me. “Do you know either of these people they’re talking about?” he asks.
“Not the girl. I’ve met the guy once—”
“She’s Chinese,” answers the Hawaiian.
“Oh. Never mind…wait, you got a picture?”
A phone is handed around the table. The picture was taken at a bar — a young, petite Chinese woman smiling and holding the arm of a towering white dude.
“Um, no thank you,” says the Korean.
“張, what about you?” asks the Hawaiian. “She’s pretty, right?”
I wait for the rest of the pitch.
“She is super smart. She has a Ph.D., did a residency program, she’s really active and loves doing outdoorsy stuff, she is soooo funny and fun to talk to…”
I glance over at the Filipino, who looks doubtful. “I don’t know, man. I met this girl. You saying she’s active and all that but she ain’t the one being active. She’s just waiting around for someone else to suggest something active and she’s like, ‘Okay, I’ll go too.’ To me that doesn’t mean she’s active. That’s kinda boring to me.”
I hand the phone back to its owner.
“She really needs someone younger,” I say.