Letters

Imagephoto: roger wingfield

Hi.  I searched.  I read.

It was funny, offbeat, intriguing.  A lot of it.  But I’m wondering if it’s okay to say there was something troubling in there as well? 

I was reading the letter to you from Kevin bemoaning the racist attitudes he encounters among gay men.  You were – justifiably – sensitive to his concerns and gave a mostly reasoned response.  That disturbed me in his letter were the ageist comments, especially given that he was complaining about people stereotyping Asians.  I felt sad that he needed to stereotype older men.  What was more troubling was your compounding of those stereotypes in your response to him (“weirdos who are decades older”). 

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It’s a destructive image that plays itself out in sites like Grindr, where some men make assumptions merely based on age, with no other facts to back up those assumptions.

You seem like a thoughtful person.  I doubt you really believe that all older men are ‘weirdos’ or ‘creepy’ or that all weirdos are actually older men.  So, I’d just ask you to be as thoughtful in how you address ageism as your are in addressing racism.

Thanks for listening.

A.Y.

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Hey A.Y.,

Thanks for reading, and thanks for writing in.

You’ve brought up a very valid point, and given me quite a bit to think about.

I’d like to clarify that I never said that all older men are creepy or weird.  I said that I had been hit on by creepy weirdos who were decades older than me.  I’ve also been hit on my creepy weirdos my own age, and jerks who are much younger than me.  Also, I’m sure that at some point, to someone, I’ve been the creepy weirdo.

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I’m not going to be dismissive of your point – that Kevin’s letter had some ageist sentiments, or that by sympathizing with him on certain points I appear to condone ageism.  That certainly wasn’t my intent, even if it came off that way.  I don’t condone ageism.

I think that we, as a gay community, could certainly stand to exhibit more tolerance, sensitivity, and kindness toward each other.   I’m sorry if Kevin’s letter (or my response) offended or hurt your feelings in any way.  That wasn’t my goal.  I can’t speak for Kevin, but I’ve corresponded with him a bit, and he’s a bright, kind fellow – I don’t think he was trying to hurt people when he penned his letter.

ImageThis does, however, lead me to my secondary point.  Intent.

Kevin expressed to me, in an email, that he’s tired of ‘creepy guys… that are older’ hitting on him all the time.  I agree with you, that it might come off as an insensitive, ageist statement – but I don’t think his intent was to be hurtful. He was just expressing frustration in an email to me.  If anything, I’m to blame, for making it public on my site, and seeming to sympathize in my response.

I think there’s a difference between that, and making ‘ching chong’ jokes in public, to someone’s face, because you’re mortified that an Asian tried to talk to you.  The difference being intent.  When you do that, you’re purposefully trying to be hurtful – and I think that’s kind of evil.

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This dialogue is very helpful, A.Y..  You’ve certainly given me pause. We could stand to examine ageism in the gay community, and I do think we could better police the offhanded remarks we make, especially in public and on the internet. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.

If I were to substitute race for age, I’d be uncomfortable making a similar statement. “I get hit on my a bunch of creepy weird Asians,” probably wouldn’t fly.

Even so – this last bit of observation begs an entirely more frivolous question:

Where are the creepy weird Asians when you need them?

(Seriously – get at me.  Jerks.)

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Advice

illustrations by lex millena

Hey Pie Guy,

My name is Kevin, and I wanted to write to you for a while now.  I’m having a problem and I wanted some advice – or maybe I just need to tell someone about it. 

I feel ugly all the time.  I’m not sure why this should be – I go to the gym a lot and in the past few years I’ve managed to carve out a pretty decent looking body.  I have nice arms and some semblance of abs, even.  But, I can’t seem to get guys my age to look at me, or hit on me. 

I should say that I’m 24 years old and Chinese American.  That shouldn’t make a difference, but it certainly does – at least where I live in Atlanta.  When I go out to gay bars, the only people that hit on me are creepy guys that are 15-20 years older than me.  I want to sleep with guys my own age, but they don’t look at me when I go out, and if I talk to them at the bar they seem mortified, or annoyed somehow.

I’ve had guys my own age even say ugly, racist things to me.  This cute, fratty looking guy was really drunk one night and when I went up to him to say hi, he sneered and said something to the effect of ‘me no want sucky sucky long time.’  I left immediately.  I’d never had someone call out my Asian identity like that in such a brutal, cruel way.  I left feeling inadequate and ashamed of myself. 

I tried asking out another guy that I thought was cute.  He told me I was very attractive, but he was a bottom only.  I said that’s okay cause I’m versatile and he laughed.  I was confused.  Then he said that he didn’t think he could let an Asian guy top him. 

I just don’t get it.  My penis is above average.  I’m a pretty attractive guy.  I take care of my body and it shows.  Why can’t I get people my own age to look at me as a viable sex partner?  Sometimes when I go out I get horny or drunk enough to go home with a guy who’s 40ish – but then I always go home feeling worse about myself than when I started.

I’m beginning to feel alienated and depressed.  I don’t know what to do. 

Thanks for reading this letter – I feel better just verbalizing these feelings.  You don’t have to answer, but I’d like to hear your thoughts. 

Thanks,

Kevin

Hey Kevin,

Thanks for writing in.  I’m upset and kind of angry to hear about the insensitive, racist things you’ve had to put up with.  That sucks.  I wish I could say that you’re just having a run of bad luck, and in a way you are – but I was also a bartender for years in a gay bar, and I can honestly say – racism is alive and well in the gay community.

However – I do think that there’s a lot of dialogue right now that counters that point of view.  I know that there’s a growing number of people in the gay community that think the idea of a racial sexual hierarchy is absurd.  I also know there’s a long way to go before Asian homosexuals can feel like the playing field is level in the gay dating world.  All you have to do is look at mainstream gay porn to see that Asians are an invisible minority.

I want you to know that you’re not alone, Kevin.  I want you to know that I feel depressed and alienated too, a lot of the time.  You’re not the only person that gets weirdos who are decades older than you hitting on them.  I wonder if you’d have better luck meeting gay guys on OkCupid or joining some sort of gay sports team, or club?  People are frequently at their worst when they’re hammered, and gays your age tend to drink until they’re wasted.

I do want you to know that there are plenty of people out there that find gay Asians attractive – that think of them as people, and not just asexual, bottom-only playthings.  Thanks for sending me photos of you – I can attest that yes, you are a very attractive guy, and if you lived in NYC I’d certainly hit on you.  The only advice I have is keep at it, Kev.  Try online dating too, and being social in non-alcohol related settings.  That might clear things up, a little.

One more thing.  Try to keep this in mind:  If someone says something racist, or callous to you in public?  That’s just them showing the world they’re an asshole.  Try not to let it get to you.  If you walk home ashamed of yourself or angry, then you let a worthless asshole steal your joy and ruin your night.  Don’t do that.

Be proud of yourself, Kevin.  You’re a very beautiful man.  You’re smart and sexy and wonderful.  Keep your head up.  Be proud.

Jerk.

WednesDATE: Jack of All Trades

photos by tri vo

Him:  Well hello there.

Me:  Hi.  How are you?

Him:  I’m very well.  How are you?

Me:  I’m fine.  Thanks.

Him:  You’re probably wondering what a man clearly 20 years older than you is doing striking up a conversation in a bar…

Me:  Not really.  We’re sitting next to each other.  I’m not going to barbeque you for being social.

Him:  That’s a wonderful choice.  Allow me to present my card.  My name is Jack, and I do everything.  I am therefore a Jack of All Trades.

Me:  So your card says…

Him:  I’m a singer…  I have my own vodka… And I am a concierge to the world.

Me:  Hm…  what does that entail?

Him:  Being a lot of things to a lot of people.

Me:  Okay.  I can respect that.

Him:  You probably don’t know what to think of me.  A very forward man in his mid-fifties dressed so flamboyantly…

Me:  I’m amused.  Where did you find an entirely red suit?

Him:  It was custom made for me by a friend.  I added the many pendants and broaches myself.

Me:  Good call.

Him:  Thank you.  May I skip right to the point?

Me:  Uh…  Sure…  I guess…

Him:  I noticed you have very big hands.

Me:  Ha.  I guess I do.

Him:  And in my experience -men with big hands are frequently big in other areas.  Do you follow my meaning?

Me:  My feet?

Him:  Amongst other appendages that stick out, yes.

Me:  Okay… I-

Him:  And, well…  I am an appreciator – nay, a connoisseur of the well endowed.

Me:  Heh.  You’re something else.

Him:  You have no idea…

Me:  I…

Him:  Have you ever seen a snake disengage its jaw to swallow a large egg?

Me:  On television.  Not in person.

Him:  It’s similar to that.

Me: I think I get where you’re going.

Him:  Do you?  I’m saying that I have no gag reflex.

Me:  I know.  I get it.

Him:  I’m saying – It doesn’t matter how endowed you are.  I can swallow you whole.

Me:  That’s really clear.   You’ve made that clear.  I get it.  So did you watch the Grammy awards?

Him:  I’m looking for men with big hands that can appreciate a man of my talents.

Me:  Okay.  That’s very funny.  You’re forward, and I appreciate your energy, but I’m probably just here to hang out and relax, buddy.

Him:  You know what’s really relaxing?

Me:  Oh Jesus…

Him:  Having a mature friend who understands how to fully satisfy you without wasting a drop of your precious essence.

Me:  What?  This is by far the most bizarre proposition I’ve had in at least a week.

Him:  Do you understand what I mean when I say ‘essence?’

Me:  Yeah.  I’m not an idiot.

Him:  Sperm.  I’m talking about sperm.

Me:  I GET IT!  I understand what you’re saying.  Just…  Let’s change the subject, okay?

Him:  There’s no need to get hostile.

Me:  I’m not trying to be hostile, but we’re in a public place, and I’m just trying to relax.  I want to be friendly and not rude, but I also don’t necessarily want to have an audible conversation about how you can disengage your jaw like a boa constrictor, although – sidebar:  that’s very impressive…

Him:  Thank you.  From one impressive man to another, I accept your compliment.

(pause)

Him:  Did you watch the Grammy awards?

Me:  No.  I was just changing the subject.

Him:  How big is your penis?

Me:  Okay.  We’re done.  We’re not talking anymore.

Him:  I was just changing the subject.

Me:  Have a good night.  Jerk.

SunDATE: Can’t You Do Better?

Imagephotos by tri vo

Me:  Hi.

Him:  Hi.

(pause)

Him:  Is that all?  Just hi?

Me:  I’m sorry.  My focus wandered.

Him:  Surely you have more to say than just hi?Image

Me:  Well, to be fair, the only thing you said was hi.

Him:  Yes, but I didn’t start the conversation, you did.

Me:  Hm.  Yes.  That’s a logical argument.

(pause)

Him:  So?

Me:  Oh.  Right.  Um.  I was going to ask how your evening was going, but I got distracted.

Him:  By what?

Me:  You smiled over my shoulder, at your friend, and you looked really cute when you did that.  It took me back for a second.

Him:  Oh brother.

Me:  I know, right?  Compliments.  What an asshole.

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Him:  You were going to ask how my evening was going? 

Me:  I was.

Him:  That sounds like such a canned question.  Contrived.  Can’t you do better?

Me:  Apparently on this particular evening it’s all I can muster.  What should I have said?

Him:  I don’t know – I’m not the one going up to a stranger in a bar and saying hi.

Me:  You act like I cut a huge fart while meeting the Queen of England or something.

Him:  Ha.  I like that image.  Do you watch Downton Abbey?

Me:  Yes.  Isn’t it required for urban gays?

Him:  Yes.  Finally, something I like about you.

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Me:  Do you get laid often?

Him:  Finally, an interesting question.  No.  To be honest, I don’t go on a lot of dates.

Me:  Shocker.

Him:  Is it?  Shocking?

Me:  Given your behavior tonight?  Totally.

Him:  Aw.  I’m not easy.  I’m known as being pretty difficult amongst my friends.

Me:  Well…  Nothing worth while is easy.

Him:  Profound.  What do you do for a living?

Me:  I do freelance writing and I teach improv at night.

Him:  Oh, brother.

Me:  Tell me about it.

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Him:  Improv, like with funny costumes and crazy wigs??

Me:  No

Him: ‘Cause I saw an improv show in Boston and that’s what it was.

Me:  They don’t let me teach the class on crazy wigs.

Him:  Good thing.

(pause)

Him:  Hey, I’m going home.  Do you want to walk me to the corner and kiss me good night?

Me:  Hm…

Him:  Hm?

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Me:  Well, I want to, but given your behavior I really shouldn’t.

(pause)

Me:  Okay fine.

Him:  Fine?

Me:  Yeah, I’ll walk you to the subway.

(pause)

Me:  Jerk.

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Advice

Imagedrawing by dale cooper

Hi there!  

 
I found your blog a couple of months ago and fell in love.  Brooklyn, pie, ukuleles…what’s not to love?  So, I’m feeling a little weird writing to you for advice as you’re a complete stranger.  As I’m writing this, though, I’m thinking that maybe that’s what I need…an unbiased opinion.  
 
Here’s the story:
 
My boyfriend and I broke up a couple months ago.  We’d been together for 3.5 years.  I love him. Always will.  We didn’t have the best relationship towards the end. 
 
 
Two weeks after we broke up, we tried getting back together.  We both really believed in us.  We decided to take things slowly so that we could both have a chance to grow more and not be so dependent on the other person.  Another two weeks later, he invites me to his work holiday party.  First, he blows off our plan of meeting up and going to the party together.  Fine.  I meet him there where he is already a few drinks in.  He basically ignores me the whole night and flirts with the cute host (a friend of his from his school days) the entire evening.  Like touching and obnoxiously laughing.  With me sitting right beside him.  So, I feel extremely awkward and tell him that maybe it would be best if I leave and we can talk about it the next day.  He tells me to stay, and then I call him out on his behavior which he just laughs off and calls me ridiculous.  I press the point.  He pauses and tells me that he doesn’t think he can love me anymore.  I leave.  
 
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I finally call him after a few days ignoring his many calls and texts.  He apologizes for how he acted and tells me that we both need our space so we can both grow.  (I know…that’s what I thought we were doing.)  I’m rather angry and end up saying something I completely regret.  “I feel like a fool for falling for you.”  He didn’t take that so well.  And, I know I said it out of anger and basically that I was upset with the re-ending of our relationship.  I let myself fall for him all over again just to be let down.  So, it’s over.
 
That was last month.  I’m not as sad anymore, but I’m still confused.  How do I move on? 
 
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I know you get tons of e-mails.  And, it would be great if you responded.  But, just knowing that you read this makes me feel a little better. 
 
Best,
Akira
 
p.s. The picture was the beginning preparations for my key lime ginger pie.  It’s real good.
 
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Hey Akira,
 
Thanks for writing in. 
 
Wow.  It sounds like you and your boyfriend must have loved each other very much.  You guys were both so fond of one another that you couldn’t accept the end of your relationship.  That means you had a strong bond.  Neither of you wanted to let go of it.  Still…
 
He acted like a jerk.   But maybe he had reason.
 
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Maybe your ex wanted to try to salvage things, but then soon realized that the differences were too great – maybe he realized that he’d grown too far away to get the closeness back.  It sounds like he really wanted to try to make it work with you two, but lost his resolve somewhere along the line. Certainly he could have communicated better, but his life is being shattered too, right?  He’s going to behave strangely.
 
But none of this conjecture matters.  You’re in real pain.
 
Your question is:  How do i move on?
 
I don’t know.  I’m not good at letting go either.  I still talk to the ghost of my ex, who moved out more than two years ago. 
 
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But here’s a few things you could consider…
 
Be good to yourself.  There’s so much beating ourselves up in life.  But just this once, acknowledge that you’re a great person, and you deserve love. 
 
Make out with everyone.  At least for a month or two.  Why not?  Feel attractive.
 
(use condoms)
 
Throw yourself into your work.  They say the best revenge is living well.  Live well.  Work your way up to something impressive.
 
Listen to yourself.  Don’t try to go out and party if you’re feeling solitary.  Let your body do what it wants to.
 
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Cry.  Let yourself cry about it.  Acknowledging that there is sadness just underlines the point that relationships are worth embarking on.
 
Exercise.  Go to the gym.  Run.  Swim.  Get it out of your system.  I know it feels mental, but some of it is in your body.  Also, you’re on the market now, so get in shape.
 
Akira, seriously – do anything you need to do, but create a separate self, outside the identity of this man.  You sound like a lovely, handsome young man who deserves happiness.  Write your own story.  And write yourself a happy ending.  Give yourself time to grieve.  But after a while, wake up and look at what’s true.  You’re a handsome, young, talented man. 
 
You have a world of options.
 
Jerk.
 
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The Ramble

ImageHim:  Hey.  ‘Sup.

Me:  Oh Jesus…

Him: What?

Me:  Nothing.  I just…  Hi.

Him:  Hi.

(a long pause)

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Him:  So, what’s up?

Me:  I’m just on a walk.

Him:  Cold day for a walk.

Me:  Well, I like walking in the cold.

Him: Is that so?

Me:  That is so.

(a long pause)

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Me:  No.  It isn’t so.

Him:  Ha.

Me:  It’s not what you think.

Him:  What do I think?

Me:  I think you think that I’m here to…  hang around in the park.

Him:  Hang around?

Me:  Stop.  You know.

(he glances at his crotch)

Him:  Maybe I do.

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Me:  Don’t do that.  I’m here to write about this.

Him:  Are you serious?  What do you mean?

Me:  I’m covering The Ramble for a lifestyle piece I’m working on.

Him:  Really??

Me:  Yeah.  Really.

Him:  Awman.  I gotta leave.

Me:  No, wait.  I’d like to ask you some questions, if you don’t mind.

Him:  I don’t know. 

Me:  Come on.

(long pause.  i glance at his crotch.)

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Him:  Okay.  But you can’t identify me.

Me:  You haven’t introduced yourself.

Him:  Good point.

Me:  What’s your name?  Just kidding.  What do you do for work?

Him:  I’m a prep cook at a restaurant.

Me:  What type of restaurant?

Him:  A hotel.

Me:  Faggy.

Him:  Shut up, I’m not…  Only a few of my friends even know I’m gay.

Me: Is that important to you?  That you pass for straight?

Him:  I guess so…  I guess.  I don’t like it when people think I look like a sissy.

Me:  Hm.

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Him:  I’m not ashamed of being gay.  But I don’t want everyone to know about it.  I don’t want to have to shout about it.

Me:  Okay.  How often do you come here for sex?

Him:  What? 

(long pause)

Him:  I don’t know.  Once a week.  Sometimes twice?

Me:  So the majority of your sex life happens out here, in the wild?

Him: Well, in the summer time, sure.  In the winter…  sometimes I go home with somebody.

Me:  Okay. 

Him: Is that weird?  I think it’s thrilling.  Like hunting…

Me:  Do you think it’s weird?

Him:  No, but I can tell you do.

Me:  No.  I don’t.  I don’t think it’s weird at all.  But I do think there might be a connection between your self-consciousness about people knowing you’re gay, and you conducting your sex life anonymously.  I mean… Don’t you think?

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Him:  No.  I don’t think about it that much.  It’s such a small part of who I am.

Me:  Really? 

Him:  Yeah.  Really.

Me:  Well… Sounds like you’re really good at compartmentalizing.

Him:  So?

(long pause)

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Me: So…  more power to you, I guess.

Him:  Hey.  You’re a decent guy. 

Me:  Thanks.

Him:  Wanna go behind those trees and blow each other?

Me:  I do not.  Thanks for chatting though.  I have to leave.

Him:  Don’t identify me.

Me: I don’t know who you are.  You never said.

Him:  Fair enough.  Jerk.

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ThursDATE: They’re Playing Our Song

photos by eryc perez de tagle

Him:  So that was the afternoon I got my acceptance letter to Sarah Laurence College.  And I got a scholarship, so I told my parents to suck it.

Me:  Haha – good for you.  That was a great story.

Him:  Thanks.  You know – I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about you…

Me:  Heh.  Thanks.  But give it a second – you’ve only known me for 15 minutes.  I get progressively less charming with time.

Him:  Oh, I don’t believe that.

Me:  It’s been proven scientifically.  Oh hey – I love this song.

Him:  Neutral Milk Hotel?

Me:  Yeah – I always really liked this one.

Him:  Oh my God, me too…  This could totally be our song!

Me:  Huh?

Him:  When we come here five years from now, on our anniversary – we can ask the bartender to play it because it’s our song!

Me:  Heh – all right, all right.  You’re getting ahead of yourself, just a little bit, no?

(pause)

Him:  Haha – yeah, I’m just joking, silly!

Me:  Oh.  Of course.  Of course you are…  heh…  So, what do you do for work?

Him:  I’m a freelance grant writer.

Me:  Oh?  Wow.

Him:  I know – you didn’t picture yourself with a grant writer, did you?  Nobody does – every time I ask that question, nobody does…

Me:  I…  I don’t know.

Him:  Do you like kids?  I love children.

Me:  I have some nieces and nephews and I gotta say, I like them so much more than I thought i was going to.

Him:  What does that mean?  That sounds horrible.

Me:  Hm.  I guess it does, in a way.  What I mean to say is – I wasn’t prepared for how much I was going to actually like/love them.  They’re really quite wonderful.

Him:  That sounds better – do you want kids?

Me:  I don’t know.  I went through a phase where I thought I did, but now I’m wondering if there aren’t advantages to not having them too…  I’m a writer and a comic and it’s pretty enticing, not having to slow down your work load because you had a kid.

Him:  Um, ew.   We’ll have to work on that answer, mister!  I want two kids – a boy and a girl.  Holden and Hanna – after Salinger and Woody Allen.

Me:  Really?  Holden?

Him:  You’ll get used to it.  So have you thought about a survival job?

Me:  What?

Him:  Well freelance writing and comedy can’t pay that well, can they?

Me:  Well they can, but in my case, no.  I barely scrape by.  But I’m kind of okay with that.

Him:  But how are you going to support a family??

Me:  What?  I just said that I might not have one.

Him:  I know – I was just kidding!  Even so, what about Holden and Hanna?

Me:  I don’t…  What do you do for fun around here?  When you’re not grant writing?

Him:  I hope you know I plan to retire by the age of 50, if at all possible…

(long pause)

Me:  I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

Him:  Oh you!  You always say that!

Me:  I do.  Always.  For the last 25 minutes.

Him:  You know, I’m starting to think you’re not even looking for a boyfriend.

Me:  I’m not.

Him:  What??

Me:  I’m not – well not actively, at least.  I pride myself on  not being the type of guy that needs to find validation through having a boyfriend.  Not that I’m dead set against it, I’m just not desperately searching for one.

Him:  Ugh.  I wish you would have said that online.  I feel like my time has been wasted.

Me:  I’m sorry you feel that way.

Him:  Aw!  Our first fight!  I’m sorry too – I didn’t mean that thing about wasting my time.

Me:  …

Him:  I’m just kidding!  Let’s have another drink.

Me:  No.

Him: No?

Me: No.  But thanks for meeting up.  Jerk.

Rice Queen

Him:  Hey there.  What’s up?

Me:  Not much.  Just hanging out.

Him:  That kid you were hitting on was really cute.  Was he Chinese?  He looked Chinese.

Me:  I don’t know.  He said he was from New Mexico.

Him:  Yeah but where was he really from?

(pause)

Me:  I don’t know.  I didn’t ask him the story of his epic family saga.  Maybe he was born in a refugee camp?

Him:  Hot.  Now you’re talking.  But that would make it more likely he was Vietnamese.  He looks Chinese or Korean maybe.

Me:  I’m not well versed enough to make the distinction.

Him:  Oh?  Are you new to Rice?

Me:  What??

Him:  Are you new to the world of Rice Queens?

Me:  Oh man.  I don’t know how to answer that.  That term is so brutal.  I’m not sure I identify with it.

Him:  Why?  Rice is a staple…

Me:  Uh…  I don’t know.  Seems like there’s a weird stigma attached to some dated racial hierarchy.  No offense.  I’m sure it was probably different in your generation.

Him:  It sure was.  The Rice was a lot less uppity.

Me:  Hey, old timer – we don’t use the word ‘uppity’ to describe ethnic minorities.  I’m pretty sure that’s a bad idea across the board.

Him:  Well, it used to be easier.  They were less demanding.

Me:  That guy went to Yale, and he’s super good looking – I’m sure he has every right to be selective about who picks him up in a gay bar.

Him:  Don’t get me wrong.  I’ve been a Rice Queen for a long time.  I’ve had lots of great relationships with Asian guys.  Mutual respect is always key.  How long have you been a Rice Queen?

Me:  I’m not entirely sure that I am?  I’ve had lots of types of boyfriends – Latinos, Jews, White, Asians…

Him:  You were really into that Chinese guy.

Me:  True.  Lately they’ve been turning my head a lot.  I dunno…  I go through phases.  There was a couple years there where I was hot for red heads too.

Him:  Have you ever been to Asia?

Me:  No.

Him:  Oh, you’ve got to go!

Me:  Why’s that?

Him:  Oh the boys there are just lovely.  They’re so sweet and accommodating – they’re not spoiled by Western thinking like the Asian Americans are.

Me:  Oh my God, you have to be kidding, right?

Him:  What?

Me:  Well…  I mean, you realize how you sound, right?  ‘Spoiled?’

Him:  How do I sound?

Me:  Kind of racist.  No.  Totally racist and also imperialist, too.

Him:  Oh please.  Asia is the most racist place on earth.  If you don’t believe me, then ask your next Chinese trick how many Black people he’s slept with.  Chinese people are super, super racist.

Me:  That doesn’t make it –

Him:  BUT – I love them.  They all have hard exteriors but inside they’re marshmallows.  So sweet – and once they decide they like you, you’re in for good.

Me:  Hm.  Okay.  Just for the sake of hearing your opinion – what do you think about Japanese people?

Him:  Uh…  they’re a little superior for my tastes.  Also, they’re emotional labyrinths.  You can never tell what they’re really feeling or thinking.

Me:  Koreans?

Him:  They drink a lot, and chain smoke.  Hey – why do Koreans make good bottoms?

Me:  Why?

Him:  They’re used to being occupied.  Get it?  I made that one up.

Me:  You’re a horrible old man.  (pause)  That joke would also work for The Philippines.

Him:  Oh yeah!  You’re totally right.   But I prefer Thai boys the best.

Me:  Why’s that?

Him:  They have no qualms about sleeping with older men.  I mean, you have to give them some money, but we’re talking twenty bucks for the most depraved things you can think of.

Me:  All right.  Okay.

Him:  I have a scrapbook of all the Thai boys I’ve slept with at home.  You should come see it sometimes.

Me:  Hey, thanks for chatting, racist old man.  I was alternately horrified and amused.  I think I’m going to make better use of my time, and hit on that guy over there.

Him:  He looks Vietnamese.

Me:  If you say so.

Him:  They taste like cilantro, sometimes.

Me:  I…  What?  Okay I’m leaving.  Have a good night.

Jerk.

 

 

FriDATE: I’ve Done That

photos by ryosuke kumakura

Him:  Nice coat.

Me:  Thanks.  It’s my heavy winter coat.

Him:  Is it warm?

Me:  Yeah, it’s my heaviest one.

Him:  Looks like it would be warm.

Me:  It is.  It’s a warm coat.

Him:  Looks like it.

Me:  Yeah.  It’s warm. (pause) How long have you been here?  Long time?

Him:  Nope, only a little bit.  Five minutes.

Me:  That’s not too long.

Him:  Not at all.  So…

drawings by naruki kukita

Me:  So…

Him:  So tell me what you do.

Me:  Well you know about the website.

Him:  Obviously.  I used to have a website.  I used to run a very well attended blog.

Me:  Oh?

Him:  Yeah, I kept a sex blog when I was 15, and it became a bit of a thing.  

Me:  What?  I can imagine!

Him:  Especially because I was sleeping with older people, so it was illegal too.  I got a lot of heat for it.

Me:  I can imagine.  Wow.  That’s crazy.  What happened?

Him:  I took it down.

Me:  Why’s that?

Him:  I kind of outgrew it.

Me:  I can see that.

Him:  Plus, I was applying to schools and I Googled myself and my sex blog came up immediately.  I had like 5000 hits a day.

Me:  Wow.  Not too shabby for a 15 year old.  Good job.

Him:  So what else?  What do you do?

Me:  I teach.

Him:  Oh me too!  I used to teach literacy to remedial students.

Me:  Wow.  That’s noble.

Him:  It was a student job.  I outgrew it.

Me:  Oh, okay.  I teach improv to adults.

Him:  Do you do improv?

Me:  I do, yes.

Him:  I’ve done that.  I was in an improv class once.

Me:  Did you study here in the city?

Him:  No, there was a class offered at my university.

Me: Oh, okay, cool.  Did you like it?

Him:  Not really.  I thought it was dumb.  Sorry…

Me:  It’s not for everyone.

Him:  I was good at it.

Me:  I’m sure.  You seem like you would be.

Him:  What type of improv do you teach?

Me:  Musical improv.  How to improvise musicals.

Him:  Oh my God, I used to do musicals.

Me:  Surprise!

Him:  In college I did a slew of them.  Well, three. But then I outgrew musicals too, I guess. 

Me:  How so?

Him:  They started seeming frivolous or dumb, somehow.  Then I stopped doing them.  My teachers were super upset about it.

Me:  Think of the talent you denied the world!

Him:  By the way I like your shirt.  Where did you get it?

Me:  In Hamburg.  I went with my brother once.

Him:  Oh my God, I went to Hamburg with my cousin!

Me:  No kidding?

Him:  How long were you there? 

Me:  15 days.  I liked it a lot.

Him:  We stayed for three weeks.  It was pretty boring.

Me:  It’s not for everyone.

Him:  (burps)  Whoops!  Sorry.  I had bodega Chinese food before I came here.

Me:  Oh my God, I’ve done that!

Him:  What?  Burped on a first date?

Me:  No, eaten Chinese food.  It was a long time ago, when I was in the Peace Corps in Romania.

(long pause.  we lock eyes)

Me:  I’ve been to 33 states.

Him:  37.

Me:  I can do a cartwheel.

Him:  Handspring.

Me:  Double jointed.

Him:  Trained contortionist.

Me:  I have six fingers on my left hand.

Him:  I was born with a vestigial twin face growing from my abdomen.

(pause)

Him:  Do you want to go make out?

Me:  Obviously.  Let me get coat on.

Him:  That’s a very warm looking coat.

Me:  It’s very warm.

Him:  Looks like it.

Me:  It is.  It’s a warm coat.  It’s very warm.  My coat is warm.