Black Friday night after waiting 6 hours in line in Walmart to get my uncle a playstation 3 bundle, I decide to go to Starbucks to study genetics and finish the last Royce fiction. I sat on a table, hooked my laptop power cord and began typing the final masterpiece. Half an hour later of Christmas music, coffee, and typing, a bald Korean man with glasses, a fur jacket and shorts sat right in front of me his gaze perpendicular to mine. His drink read “James”.
I analyzed him quickly. Tall green tea, cheapest thing on the menu and he’s Asian so he must have tea at home. He’s definitely just here for the atmosphere. He isn’t adequately dressed for fifty degree weather. His jacket seems puffy and warm, but shorts and flip flops? Ridiculous, he lives near to be able to withstand such cold. He must not know how to dress properly or can’t afford pants. Bald=middle aged. But taking into account his whole persona he must not have done very well for himself during his educational ascend to afford at least the mentality that he is older and society expects him to at least sort of fit into the norm.
I felt him turn to me so I looked up from typing and acknowledged his gaze.
“How do you like your laptop? Is it better?” he asked out of nowhere.
“Better than what?” tilting my head in curiosity
“Than the….um…what is it Inspiron?” he asked again
“Yeah this is a newer model, but I got it as a gift and it’s just a computer I really don’t care.”
“Its an XPS right?” He gets up hovers around me. “Why do you have a Mac sticker there?”
“Well I dropped my cellphone on it and I secretly wished I had a Mac instead”
He nodded and sat back down. Phew…thank freaking god. This is where most people my age would decide to leave or call security, but I’m something else. I decided to entertain his barrage of questions flexing the social butterfly inside me.
“What are you doing here in Rowland Heights?” I asked acknowledging that it’s my turn.
“I don’t know” he said.
Okay this isn’t going anywhere…
“Where do you live” I asked thinking that he might be a mental case.
“San Marino. I teach a math program there.” He replied amused. “Studying hard?”
I feel sorry for your students…
“Yes. Finals are coming up so I’m trying to get a head start after wasting my time shopping today.”
“What school do you go to?”
Should I answer this? If I do would I end up shot in the middle of the road or raped in the alley? Sure why the hell not I’ll do it for the rush and for what you’re reading now.
“UCI, I’m one of the lucky ones that got into the nursing school” I answered “How about you? Where did you go?”
“I went to Dartmouth for my B.S. and UCR for my masters” he looked confused.
Wow…an Ivy league. Here’s where my sarcasm comes in.
“What are you doing teaching an after school program? What major did you finish?”
“Biochemistry…I’ve tried 3 years to look for a job, no one wants to hire me for research.”
This doesn’t sound too plausible…I’m sure with these degrees anyone can find a job… “even as a lab tech?” I accidentally said out loud.
“Yeah…I’ve applied everywhere and I’m supposed to finish my PhD but everytime I start my mental illness prevents me from finishing. I’ve had to restart med school three times. I’m trying one last time this January.”
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
“Oh okay. Just study hard. I’m sure you’re ahead of the other incoming med students by three years” I laughed half-heartedly trying to diffuse the situation.
He laughed as his eyes disappeared.
“What are you going to do with your nursing degree? Can you get a job with it right away?”
“No you have to pass the board exam, the NCLEX, then you can work. I then want to get an MSN in hospital administration” but seriously enough about me I want to know how crazy you really are!
“You should consider getting an MBA instead, I was a career counselor once and a nurse with an MBA makes more”
“Oh okay...Seriously though what are you doing here in Rowland Heights?”
…I’m here to kill you…
“I’m supposed to be in City of Industry, but I grew up around here.”
“Are your parents there also?”
“Yeah”
“What do they do?”
“My father is a dentist, and my mother is a homemaker.”
“Oh okay. My parents are both accountants. Not that interesting”
I believe what followed is awkward silence as I pretended to type again.
“So you nursing majors party a lot huh?”
“Me? Not really. Sometimes we get really crazy after midterms and finals” And before and during and on the actual exams.
“I’m looking for a pin-up girl” He sounded like my roommate all of a sudden.
“What’s that?” Obviously I know what it is.
“Are you serious? You don’t know what a pin up girl is?”
“Is that like a trophy wife?” I asked curiously with alternate motive be able to compare him to my roommate.
“Yeah I just want her to be there to give me a blowjob whenever I want.” Bingo!
I laughed as I brushed off the topic.
“Do you ever feel inferior to other med students?”
“No, not really. We have pretty much the same classes up until clinicals.” And besides one of these days I’m going to snatch one and make him my husband.
“Do you ever feel inferior that you’re gay?”
WHAT Whoooooooooooooo-ho-ho-hoa
“I’m sorry?” I asked.
“Well, do you ever feel below other people because you’re gay?”
Holy fack. Can this be one of those scenarios where the gay basher beats me up and rapes me and leaves me to die in the corner? What do I do? WTF do I do!?!?! Think, you’re taking a sociology 69 what is they’re mentality. Fear. Don’t let him know you’re freaking out. Stand your ground. Answer. Don’t run away. But seriously I’m wearing a black hoodie with a red lacoste shirt. How could he tell? Even though I was, I took it rather insulting that he thinks gay people feel inferior to regular straight folk. Eff that.
“It’s funny how you knew right away. You have to be careful with those kinds of assumptions because you might run across people that you misread or might take into offense what you said.” In other words, me, asshole. “But no I don’t feel INFERIOR to straight people. In fact, taking only sexuality into account, I feel superior to them because I have to fight for who I love and that I have to go through so much more intolerance than them.”
“I’ll hook you up with this hot Filipino guy named Neil that I work with. He’s really good looking and really smart. Would you like that?”
Where did this come from?!?! But yes I would very much!!! Thank you. I appreciate the service you will provide me! However could you find me something else instead? I’d like to order um…half chow mein, half rice, beef with broccoli, and light soy sauce on the side (translated John speak: Half Chinese, Half white, beefy but lean, healthy and cultured.) Thanks.
“No…sorry I’m sure he’s a great guy, but I’m not looking for anyone right now. I have to concentrate on school and work.” I felt nausea as bullshit left my mouth.
“Hmm. I don’t like southeast Asians. Especially first generations. I only like whites and Chinese. That’s why I talked to you out of everyone here.” WHAT THE?!?!
“I’m not Chinese nor white. I’m Filipino and Spanish first generation. I was born in the Philippines.” I said defensively offering unwanted information just to see what he’d do with it.
“Wow, you have a pretty high social IQ.” Hinting at his stereotype that “lower” Asians have low social IQ.
“Thank you. Why don’t you like Southeast Asians specifically?” I tried to get beneath to see the true roots of his bias.
“I’m a racist bigot. I don’t like it when they don’t know how to talk like you. You seem comfortable and confident. As for them I just leave them alone.” I have never met anyone in my entire life of 19.75 years admit point blank that they’re a racist bigot.
“Again you have to be careful with that kind of talk. If you are talking to someone not as open as me you might get your ass kicked.” This is me talking to a 35 year old Korean man with a master’s degree in biochemistry…
“Okay…” He frowned “So why do you think they’re like that? Give me an explanation.”
“Well were you born here?” I asked trying to get one crucial piece of evidence in order to shove racist cannonballs back in his mouth.
“No I was born in Korea.”
“Okay, so we’re both first generation Asian Americans. You of all people should know how hard it was to assimilate. The ones you meet might still be testing the waters. Do you know what I mean?” I asked using a little bit of psych.
He nodded his head.
“You shouldn’t disregard them as imbeciles that don’t have high social IQ. Do you understand?” I tried to stay calm but authoritative while using some of his language so he would understand me in his terms.
He looked apologetic.
“Of all people you should be the one helping them get more used to living here.” I said sternly.
“I guess I never saw it that way.” He approved nodding his head. “Would you like some tea? I could get you some tea.”
No thanks you might spike it and I might wake up in South Korea pinned against the wall.
“Oh, no thank you. I have my soy latte. I appreciate it though.” I smiled to the notion that even racist bigots could be generous.
“What’s your name?” He asked.
“Jo-….Royce” I stammered upon giving him a fake name just in case.
“It was nice to meet you Royce” he said
“And what was yours?”
“James.” Yes I know. I knew before you sat down next to me. I knew before you even drove over here from San Marino. I knew before you were born. What I lack in age I make up for in cunning.
“Thank you Royce”
“For what?” I asked.
And he exited the door without answering. I called my bff just to tell her of what happened in case I get kidnapped, she would have crucial info to my rescue. Oh yes. This really happened.
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