Did I mention I think your race is crazy?


It was the fresh peak of spring and I had met a guy who had a great job and seemed cute and  normal.  He asked me if I wanted to meet for dinner.  Usually, I hesitate when a guy asks me out for dinner.  That is a long period of time to pretend to like someone, or try to win affection, and quite frankly, I'm like my dad, I like to eat in silence.  But... I was trying to block out the memory of my ex and he suggested I pick a place, since he was new to the city.  So, I did. And, we met up one Friday night on the lower east side. We went to a trendy Korean BBQ place that had a bar in front, where he had already ordered a girlish drink by the time I got there.  He was broad and not too short, not tall, holding a cylindrical glass with a pink flower inside.

"I like girly drinks," he said with a laugh.  I liked that he was confident enough to say so.

I ordered the same, even though I actually don't like girly drinks, but he just made it look so fun.

"This is really cool. Really good choice.  I work with a bunch of dorks, so they don't have any good suggestions for me, nightlife wise."

We sat down at our table in about twenty minutes.  He asked what I liked and I said "the entire menu.  You can't really go wrong here." Even though I had only had one kind of chicken there a few weeks before.

He ordered a bunch of dishes for us, and talked about how starving he was and how he ate so much because he was a wrestler in college and got used to scarfing down grub and then starving himself.  This sounded a lot like the entertainment industry.

Dinner actually went really well.  Although, then he lifted up the side of his medium short dark hair and said, "People in Russia kept coming up to me and buying me drinks, because they can tell you're a fighter if your ear looks like this."


His ear looked like it had been left outside and gnawed on by wolverines one night.  It was mashed on the top and sent out a very Grimms fairy tale vibe.

I was starting to think hmmm I think even beyond crazy ear I might like this guy until...

After all his talk of being an enormous eater, he didn't really eat a lot.  I don't like guys who pick at food. THEN, stories of his travels started to make him seem, well, a little untraveled. Right when the food was done, we were discussing great places to hang out at night, he decided to throw this into the pot:

"So, you know how Asian people can't take surprises and the minute anything happens they start freaking out?'

Oh, maybe I should interject at this moment in time to tell you that I'm Asian.  And I was on a date with a ricest, a person who is racist against Asians.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

So, he tells this story, that is so full of out of place rambling, possibly in an effort to backtrack his comment when he saw the look on my face, that I have to retell myself the story after he stops speaking to make it even linear.  Apparently it went something like this; he had gotten completely shitfaced while working in Singapore, gone home, put a frozen pizza in the oven, forgotten that Fahrenheit and Celsius are not the same, jumped into the shower and come out with his pizza burnt to the size of a quarter and his entire apartment filled with black smoke.  Because the windows at his high floor level were sealed shut he went to his door and tried to fan all the smoke out into the hallway.  Fire alarms started to go off at 2 a.m. and uniformed firefighters appeared at his door in minutes.  That's it, that's the end of the story.

So, basically I decided that this date was over, thanked him for a lovely dinner and feigned an immediate headache.