Tea breaks, pick-up lines and Asian babies
I have a friend named Kim. You may remember her from this post. We work together, and I don’t quite know what I’ll do if there’s a time when we no longer do. I simply adore her. Did you ever have a co-worker like that?
If I’m having a slow day and clients aren’t showing up, I stalk her by calling her phone repeatedly until she is forced to either pick up and tell me to leave her alone or turn down the volume so I can stop disturbing her. On the off chance that both of us are free, she will sometimes join me for tea or coffee, which makes me happier than Honey Boo Boo in a tiara.
Yesterday, I was lucky enough to wrangle up Kim for a tea run. Before grabbing our drinks, we headed into a bodega so she could get some cash. Tied up in front of the store was a crazy adorable bulldog wearing a nubby winter sweater. (PS: If I ever get a dog, I am getting a scotty dog, and everyday I will dress him in scotty dog sweaters. )
Anyway, Kim was leaning down to flirt with the dog at the same moment a ginger-headed stranger with a sideways cap rolled up and blurted, “Yo, what you messin’ wit my dog for?”
“Uh, sorry,” said Kim. My guess is that Kim is probably used to guys speaking a little nicer to her. She’s pretty hot.
“Nahhhhh, just kidding. That ain’t even my dog.” (Oh, the undiscovered comedic talent in this town!). He held the door open for Kim and made a remark about how much he loves Asian girls. When it was my turn to enter, he released the handle and said, “Don’t come in.”
After getting the cash, we shared a laugh about the ginger. He reminded me of a young Danny Bonaduce with baggy pants and poor social skills. He was like a character in a teen comedy, the dork from the suburbs who tries really hard to gain street cred by spending too much on sneakers and speaking to women in a way that won’t let them know he’s actually terrified of them.
On the way back from getting our tea, we ran into him again, so he gave it another shot with my pretty friend. I stood back and watched because one of my greatest pleasures in life is watching people hit on each other. It’s better than Animal Planet.
“Yo, I’m collecting embryos from Asian women to have babies with, because Asian babies are so much cuter than white babies.”
I could have taken this opportunity to finally become offended. What? My white babies won’t be cute enough for you, hip-hop Bonadouche? But the truth is, I saw his point. Have you seen the pictures of little Asian babies wearing those big nerdy glasses and bow-ties on Pinterest? My uterus skips a beat every time I see one.
He wasn’t finished. “I especially like Filipinos. I keep pictures of Filipino babies all over my walls.”
“Well, that’s not creepy at all, is it?” I chimed in. I was this guy’s worst nightmare.
“Sorry,” said Kim. “I’m not Filipino, and my eggs aren’t up for grabs right now.” We chuckled and walked away. Nothing like a failed pick-up attempt to facilitate female bonding.
“You know, he would be cute if he wasn’t so weird,” Kim tried.
“No he wouldn’t,” I countered. I wasn’t cutting this tool any slack.
Kim and I parted when we entered the building and returned to our respective offices. I turned on my computer, pulled Kim’s profile up on Facebook and started stalking her baby pictures. And as much as I hate to admit this, I had a strange, almost irresistible urge to print them out and tack them on my office walls. Maybe I’d been too hard on the guy. Asian babies really are the cutest.