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Cow and Christal Champagne
I put this picture first just to get you to read this whole entry.For those people who see no continuity between my entries…a lot of them are private now. Ask me for a private subscription and I will gladly hand you one granted you are not (1) a person looking to harm me or others with the information in the private entries, (2) an ex-girlfriend and/or (3) my father.
On with the story...
I woke up the next day with a burning fever (38C) from all the ill-effects partying/drinking/dancing can do when you’re already sick, cold and sleep deprived. I wasn’t allowed to stay in bed and recover though.
I was leaving early Sunday morning to Seattle for a job interview so I had to finish all the work that would be due on Monday.
I threw some shit together for my assignments while trying not to throw up my shit. I packed while trying not to pass out. And then I tried to prepare for my interview while trying to keep my head form exploding.
I passed out.
My alarm had thankfully been set, I groggily grabbed my bags sniffling and snorting and heaving and huffing and puffing and dragged my body to a taxi
Detroit 1
...Japanese? stop.
“The airport.”
I passed out in the back seat.
The driver shook me awake at the airport.
I tried paying the cabbie but I was so sick I couldn’t even do math correctly. Finally I managed to get him the money, dragged myself to the counter, got my ticket and went to my gate.
A full hour until my flight.
I couldn’t pass out here…I would definitely miss my flight.
So I ramped up my iPod to full blast with blaring rap and tried amusing myself with my camera, my laptop, my cellphone…as I sluggishly reclined in the seat, I made a promise to myself I knew I would break as soon as this sickness passed: Stop Drinking!
I somehow managed to not fall asleep, got onboard and passed out before the plane started moving.
I was shaken awake by my neighbor. Disoriented as hell, I stumbled out. But airports are designed to be clear for even the most retarded, the most jetlagged idiots this world has seen, so it was pretty simple where I had to go.
I looked down at my ticket…ok, connecting flight from
Detroit 2
A reason to not live in Detroit: Atrocious weather. Detroit to Seattle at 12:45. I looked at the sign.
I looked back at my ticket.
Then back at the sign.
Looked around at the crowd.
Then back at the sign.
I was hallucinating.
The sign was in Japanese.
Where the fuck was I?
I was supposed to be in Detroit. I looked at my watch, only 4 hours had passed, so there was no way I was on Japanese soil or on the West Coast.
I looked around again: white travelers…blacks and Latinos manning all the shit airport jobs…yea, I was definitely in America…
Except the “Welcome to Detroit” sign was「ようこそデトロイトへ！」
And every single sign in this place was in Japanese. And the PA system was in Japanese.
The irony, of course, is fucking ridiculous. Detroit is one of the nastiest cities in North America and it rapidly declined from an international hub to backwater shithole due to Japanese imports totally annihilating the Big Three. Detroit is the last place in the world I would expect Japanese signs…the city must hate Japan, its geographically nowhere close to any kind of Japanese population and this is America…we don’t
Detroit 3
Another reason to not live in Detroit: No tech support. make things convenient for foreigners!
I started chuckling, “Detroit youkoso, haha.”
Someone tapped me on the shoulder.
I turned around staring at an Asian family of four.
The patriarch was miming and moving his lips but no sound was coming out.
I started laughing even harder, “What the fuck is wrong with Detroit?”
I tried to comprehend his silent interpretive dance but I had no clue what he was trying to do. He was moving his mouth and gesturing around and then he suddenly stopped and kept pointing to his ear and then pointing to me.
I started laughing harder even though I knew it's not cool to make fun of deaf people. I was tired and sick and my mind wasn't functioning right, give me a break.
He kept pointing to his ear, then my ear.
My ear? Was something wrong?
I reached up and then my finger hit my earbud. Oh shit, I still had my iPod on!
I pulled it out and then realized it had been on max volume for over 4 hours.
This guy in front of me wasn’t miming, he was actually
Detroit Airport
Another reason not to live in Detroit: crazy light shows in public walkways talking and I was the one who had gone fucking deaf!
I slowly regained some hearing and realized he was speaking Japanese. He told me to stop shouting and then promptly walked away.
Amused, I went over to my gate. I get told to stop shouting in Japanese in, of all places, Detroit?
Then I remembered I was deaf. Not so funny.
When the stewardess came over with the drink cart, all I could say was "waawaa". (Miracle Worker reference)
Despite my loss of hearing, my health actually got better on the plane ride from Detroit to Tacoma…call it being young and strapping, or actually getting the recommended 8 hours of sleep, or being distracted by all the humor Detroit hit me with, but I felt marginally better.
But I was still tired as fuck and beat from all the traveling.
I didn’t do anything in Seattle…I just went straight to my hotel, watched some football while eating dinner and then passed out.
I spent the next day getting grilled in a whole day worth of interviews, went back to my hotel (the Hilton) and quickly broke the rule I
had tentatively set for myself.
I had been sitting in a collared shirt, khakis…the whole works for a full day and I was beat. I went to my room, changed into comfortable clothes—a hoodie (no shirt), basketball shorts and those complimentary slipper things they give you at all upscale hotels and then headed down to the hotel bar.
I walked in and immediately the bartender intercepted me.
“Sorry sir, can I see ID?”
I flashed my Japanese passport.
She was taken aback…this little shit is actually 21?
She grudgingly let me in, and I collapsed into a bar stool and promptly ordered a pint, chicken wings and watched Monday Night Football unfold on the big screen.
The bar was split in half by a huge column, on my half, there was me, two older women and a businessman; on the other half there was a raucous gathering of some company.
Everyone was dressed to impress, while I looked like a straight bum. But I don’t fucking give a shit and it probably worked to my advantage as people kept eyeing me with intrigue.
What the fuck was this young Asian kid
Seahawks Fans After the Loss
Wondering where the team's defense, offense and special teams has gone. doing in the Hilton bar?
My order arrived and I guess in bartending school, bartenders are trained to make small talk…
…and I’m used to small talk…
…but I wasn’t prepared for what came next.
“Here’s your chicken wings and beer.” She got some napkins and then searching for something to say, she blurted out, “I didn’t know Asians could have chest hair!”
I looked down at my chest. Because I hadn’t worn a shirt, my scrawny ass chest was clearly visible underneath my zip hoodie.
The two women and the businessman, who were pretending to focus on their food and drinks while focusing on everything happening around them glanced my way, then glanced back, and then openly gawked.
I sighed.
I was used to this sort of response.
Let me explain.
Yes, I am Asian. And yes I have chest hair. It’s not some crazy Austin Powers shag carpet growing on my chest…its merely like a small rug. But apparently, having any sort of hair on chest is a huge deal for other people when the subject is Asian.
Don’t ask me why I have chest hair…I really
have no idea. No Asian I have met in all my travels (especially Japanese dudes) has had chest hair. Not even my father…he has a few peach fuzz-esque strands of thin hair, but nothing noticeable. My brother doesn't have any. None of my cousins do either. Its one of the mysteries of life. My father is convinced someone dropped Rogaine on my chest when I was a kid…or I'm not really his child and my mother had fucked a brown guy (which would explain my dark complexion and computer science major).
It’s funny how such a small thing, hair follicles growing on my pectoral region, leads to people flipping out like a black man won the American presidential race he was projected to handily win.
In Japan, whenever I found myself post-coitus, or just lazing around with my shirt off, girls were always ridiculously intrigued and didn’t know what to do with it. They would play with it, braid it, try to pluck it…they had never seen it before. In fact, they were so intrigued that whenever we were in private, they would try to get my shirt off just to see it. It was slightly funny yet
Random Seattle Modern Art
That I can't appreciate cuz I'm under 40 and not white really strange.
My female friend Cow (a Taiwanese girl), heard about my fabled chest hair and when I was drunk and helpless (laying on the floor), she pulled my shirt up and stared at it in wonder (consider the consequences if I reciprocated those same actions when she was drunk and helpless). Apparently it was the first time she saw chest hair and didn’t know what to do with it. She played around with it…in the middle of a party. Other Asian girls were also shocked and joined in…
From there, the Legend of the Asian Chest Hair spread like Jenna's Jameson's legs…it spread so much in fact, that a random girl at a party once asked me, “Hey, you’re Gen right? Can I see your chest hair?”
Do I like the attention? Of course. And I obviously don't mind having attractive girls run their hands over my chest. But its still really, really…awkward? Weird? Strange?
I gave the bartender (and the assembled crowd) the usual spiel of how I really don’t know where this came from and yes, it’s probably rare in Asians.
The two women were tourists from San Francisco and they were
Random Seattle Graff
That I can appreciate cuz I'm under 30 and a minority lesbian (oh, no…a lesbian couple from San Fran? Who would’ve thought…). Trying not to laugh my ass off at the unbelievable stereotype, I allowed them to pose with me with my chest bared as the bartender took a souvenir photograph for them.
“Hey, look what we found in Seattle! An Asian with chest hair!”
“Hella tight, Janice! Let’s cut our hair, hate on men and fuck each other with dildos!”
The rest of my Seattle trip was of little consequence…I flew out the next day and got back to Montreal on Tuesday to a pile of work. Nothing was moving on the pitching front.
But I had an ace in the hole.
Iron Face (K-Hunter #2) had sent me an email while I was in Seattle about this and that and blah blah blah and in it she mentioned how Sleepless in Seattle is her favorite movie. Considering she’s a straight Asian girl over the age of twelve, I already knew it was her favorite movie (show me a girl who doesn’t love Sleepless in Seattle); her email merely confirmed it. It just so happened that there was a Sleepless in Seattle nightgown
3-Way Lesbian Kiss
San Francisco is jealous... thing selling at the gift shop in my hotel.
Easy enough.
I debated whether to put some cheeky ass message with the gift, like “I pray that I get to see you putting this on some day. I pray harder that I get to see you taking it off some day” but cool heads prevailed. She was a good person (inside) and the least I could do was treat her with as much respect as my New York character could allow (which is not much).
I gave it to her after class on Friday, she loved it and I was riding high. Not only was it the end of the week, tonight I was heading to a student run casino with D-German and then running over to Yusaku’s party.
The casino was 2 hours of fun and I made some money…and then it was time for the party. As usual when I am faced with a party, and drinking, and clubbing…I got completely smashed.
Thing was, unlike the norm, everyone else was getting ridiculously trashed too.
Everyone had just finished midterms so it was a shitshow…and this was just the pregame at Yusaku’s house.
Facial
the Princess hit with noodles. Somehow, we managed to get to a club and someone ordered bottles of liquor. It was basically over then. With free drinks and blaring music, I was dancing crazier than a black man when he first heard rap music.
After grinding and getting grinded like a skateboard pole for over an hour, I finally collapsed into our VIP couch for some well needed downtime.
As I slouched back, hands encircled my neck as someone started whispering in my ear.
Problem was, rap music was blaring…I turned around to yell, “Speak louder!” and I was face to face with Pearl, mere inches away.
I breathed in once, I breathed in again.
Our foreheads were touching.
She closed her eyes and leaned in.
A small part of my mind screamed “STOP” as not only did she have a boyfriend, but everyone in our group could clearly see us…
…but the rest of my mind was cloudly with alcohol and was easily overwhelmed.
I closed my eyes…
…leaned in…
…and hit empty air.
I blinked my eyes in surprise and saw Pearl getting dragged off by her female friends.
Facial 2
Yusaku hit with a blast Jesus.
I remained in that position, head bent slightly forward, lips slightly pursed until I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I turned around to some random girl that I knew was Yusaku’s friend but I hadn’t been introduced to her yet.
“Bad luck, huh?”
I started talking to her, trying to gauge whether I could hit first with this new pitcher…it didn’t seem possible, but the talk started getting really interesting so I started losing interest in the physical pull that had initiated the conversation. She was half Japanese, half French from the Kansai region of Japan. Not only was she from Japan, this girl knew a few of the people I had worked with over there. We started talking about tons of random things and the talk eventually shifted to relationships and the people we dated and how our lives sucked….in thirty minutes, I hashed my whole sex/relationship life to her and she the same.
But my sex/relationship life is pretty depressing so I the ridiculous high I was experiencing was slowly dissipating despite the vain attempts of alcohol and misogynistic rap lyrics. I had to end this conversation. I got her phone
Gag
Christal Champagne can't handle the salty noodles number and then went back onto the little stretch of dance floor in front of our VIP booth.
Some random rap song was playing and I was dancing ridiculous to return to my high…I was dancing with guys, girls, inanimate objects, people were feeding me from the vodka bottles…
Pretty soon I lost track of all matter of things—time, beat, motor skills—and I found myself grinding on some girl. Her back was facing me, or rather, her back was plastered to my front, so I couldn’t tell who it was.
I managed to dance move her so that she gradually spun around and I was face to face with the Princess…
She had her hands around my neck, we were dancing dirtier than a mudslide and our faces were inches apart…
She inclined her head slightly to get the proper angle and closed in…
I moved my head downwards…
We both closed our eyes…
…and once again I hit empty air.
Our friend Sake Bomb cut a path through the dancers as she dragged the Princess away.
FUCK!
Probably for the better though as the Princess was a really
Miss Lucky and Pearl
Yours truly in the background saddened that I was cockblocked but Miss Lucky wasn't good friend and had a boyfriend (how fucking faithful are all these girls I know?).
I stood stock still for awhile trying to process all the shit that was running through my body: horniness, drunkenness, weird emotions (I still wasn’t over HKW), morals, consciences…
Whatever, just fucking dance and worry about all that shit when you sober tomorrow.
I turned to the closest person next to me, “Wanna dance?”
The person turned around. It was Yusaku, “You gay Gen?”
I shook my head and quickly turned to my right, “You wanna dance?”
The person turned around. It was Gently (a play on her name, Jen T. Lee), a hot Asian girl who I’ve been friends with for over a year.
We danced for a few songs, and with each song she crept a little closer until we became an awkward drunken hug that kept up the pretense of dancing by our shuffling feet.
By accident, my foot stubbed hers and looking down to apologize, our eyes locked.
She kept the gaze for a beat, then closed her eyes and leaned up…
I closed my eyes and headed down…
...And
Me And Yusaku's Random Friend
I spilled my whole love life to this girl... then I quickly opened my eyes and put my finger to her lips.
Her eyes flew open, reflecting her confusion.
I smirked, smiled and then led our dancing to the middle of the packed dance floor (I learn from my mistakes, bitch!).
I removed my finger and then tilted her head up.
Her eyes drooped closed.
My head titled downwards.
And I finally, finally hit first base.
And as our tongues snaked around, I couldn’t help a chuckle from escaping my throat.
She paused. “What?”
“Nothing. Just…you’re Korean right?”
She was taken aback. “Yea? So?”
“Nothing.” I tilted her head back up to mine.
And right before our lips reverted to our former positions, I couldn’t help whispering to myself.
“Welcome to K-Hunters.”
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Sat04
Satish
That was funny
Hey, seem like you guys really had fun... cheers