College Sex Diary Ch. 01

Date #1 Roger September 7

There is a running joke among the Asian female population about what could potentially be the most annoying problem in dating: the Asiaphile. I first received an email forward in high school from my friend Anne, and I couldn't believe it. I mean, I've dated assholes, but I never thought that I would ever meet an asshole who specifically targeted Asian girls.

The stereotype is that Asian girls are more docile and subservient, know a lot of sexual secrets and other shit like that.

As for the stupid asshole who buys into this, he's usually white, pretends to be into "Oriental Culture" and the next worst thing to a pedophile since he's a middle-aged guy who probably watched too many animes with girls in skimpy school uniforms and action movies where the white guy gets the Asian girl simply because he's the white hero.

I never believed these assholes existed until I met Roger. My friend Kat had met him in her Psychology class and they had studied together for a few weekly quizzes. When she told him about me, and specifically the fact that I was Asian, he wanted to meet me. Kat thought that it was about time that I started dating again. The mere fact that the guy was excited about meeting me, only after finding out that I was Asian should have tipped me off. Then again, it wasn't like I had much better to do that Friday night.

So, I agreed to meet him at the local Thai place. Strike number two... Although, I first thought that it was a bit unfair of me to judge this guy before I even met him, so I went in.

I saw several occupied tables in the small restaurant. There was a bar by the register were I saw a guy chatting with a girl who looked away from him until her group of friends came through the door. She signalled to them as if she was on a deserted island and they were a plane flying overhead. I kept thinking to myself, "Please, don't let that be Roger."

I was about to turn around and walk out the door when he started waving at me. He asked, "Are you Genevieve?"

"Yeah," I said and sat down next to him.

We ordered, I insisted on paying for my Pad Thai since I never believed in letting the guy pay for anything. He protested, but I was never one to back down on an argument. The shock on his face from seeing a female, an Asian female no less, take charge was well worth the $6 I paid for my food. I started eating the noodles, and the awkwardness of the silence proved to be too much for him.

"So, Genevieve, where are you from?" I explained to him that I was born in a small town two hours away and that I had lived there all my life. Then I asked him where he was from.

"I actually grew up here. But anyway, I meant, where are you really from? What is your nationality?" I explained to him that since I was born in the States, I was an American.

Roger gave up and got a bit frustrated, "Wow, Kat didn't tell me that you were such a smartass."

"So, what did Kat tell you about me?" I slurped up my noodles and continued being as obnoxious as possible.

"She said that you were Asian and one of the smartest girls in your class," I groaned inwardly, Kat should have known better with the whole stereotype of the quiet, smart Asian chick. "I've always thought that Asian culture was fascinating."

This was when I realized that Asiaphiles weren't limited to gross old guys who hang out at the mall. They could be anybody, even a seemingly shy, socially-inept college student. Strike three... although technically, I could have eliminated him after the "where are you really from?" bit.

"Excuse me, could I get this wrapped up to go?" I asked the bored-looking girl behind the counter who had probably seen this guy in the place many times before. There was no sense in wasting perfectly good Thai food.

"I don't get it, what's wrong?" he asked, puzzled.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm your type. You might want to go to the local video store and rent a porno to find what you're looking for," I picked up my purse, thanked the girl for my food and left a piece of paper on his plate.

The paper didn't contain my phone number or any other personal information. Instead, it had a list of the traits of an Asiaphile and other information dispelling the idiotic stereotypes about Asians. It was my one last "fuck off" to Roger in the hopes that maybe he would come out of the experience a bit more educated.

So, this is the list for "How to tell if you're an Asiaphile":

1. Do you prefer the company of Asian women compared to women of your own race? Why? Because they are more docile and beautiful with their porcelain skin and silky black hair? What you're looking for is a doll, not a human being

with an individual identity and a mind of her own. Interracial relationships are all right, but when they are reduced to seeing only the superficial traits of a person, it becomes an unhealthy fetish.

2. Do you sign up for Asian culture-related courses in order to meet members of the opposite sex? The culture of a country is not something to be used as sexual currency. It is a source of pride for those who are lucky to bear such ancestry.

3. Do you exclusively view pornography featuring Asian women depicted as mere sex toys with exotic and erotic knowledge? Pornography is just about images, the women in these films are acting and are not representative of every Asian or Asian-American female out there.

4. Do you root for the white action hero after he singlehandedly defeats a bunch of stereotypically-portrayed Asian male villains and wins over the Asian heroine (who is usually a prostitute or something equally as sexual) just because he is white? Asian men are not always evil martial arts masters or even nerdy, socially-inept math wizards just as Asian women aren't always prostitutes or damsels in distress.

It's probably a naive thought that a piece of paper could change someone's mind and the way they operate. Roger would undoubtably be trying to pick up girls in the same restaurant or perhaps a Chinese or a Japanese place with the patrons and operators looking on in disgust, but saying nothing.

But anyway, I ended up renting "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon," again, not so much for the action sequences, but because I loved the romance of it all. From the painful, unfulfilled love between Chow Yun-Fat's character and Michelle Yeoh's character to the volatile passion between Zhang Ziyi's character and Chang Chen's character, I was in love with the story. I saw myself in Zhang Ziyi's character, the rebellious teenager wanting to escape family obligations and obtain "forbidden knowledge" about swordplay as well as experience reckless love at its finest. That, and the soundtrack by Yo-Yo Ma was pretty darn good.

For some reason, after watching any romantic movie, I come away from it disappointed that things like that don't happen in reality. I'm not saying that I want someone to die before we can express our undying love for one another, or run off to the desert after the guy who stole my comb, but still, I'm bored and lacking in companionship.