My Cats are Assholes
My cats are assholes. They find 430 am to be the perfect time to stick their face in mine and purr and batt my nose, because its time to get up damnit, and play. It relieves me to know that I can pick them up and toss them outside my room, shutting the door in their nosy faces, and pains me a little to think that unfortunately doing the same thing to kids is frowned upon in most cultures…maybe mine won’t tell. Then again, I like to pounce on my cats while they are sleeping, as that is when they are at their cutest, and this is simply payback. Clever bastards.
Talking about jerks (this is a fun post), a Chinese man today drove his scooter up beside me and immediately launched into telling me he loved me, and asked where I was going, where I was from, if I was married, would I like a Chinese boyfriend, etc. This kind of thing pisses/creeps me out so badly, mostly because I just want my privacy, and Chinese men seem to think nothing of the fact that you are sitting contentedly on your scoots, obviously on your way to do other laowai (foreigner) things that have nothing to do with them. Instead you obviously look like you WANT to be creeped on and have your personal space and comfort wrung within an inch of kicking his scooter over and running away to a laowai coffee shop where the Chinese dudes there are only giving you lattes and cheesecake and don’t know enough English to hit on you, or wouldn’t dare while their buddies are around to make fun of them.
This isn’t limited to Chinese guys either. I have friends (western dudes) that frequently get propositioned…..and yeah, in that way, by Chinese women. I’m not sure if it’s the green card, the taller stature, or the lack of really long pinky nails, but Western men are like leprechaun gold to these ladies, but kind of in a sloppy way, and definitely in an intimidating one.
Do I go up to Asians in the USA and start badgering them with questions and making them uncomfortable to the point of actual fidgeting? Screw curiosity – there is a line of propriety that I think is only acceptably crossed at bars, while highly enbriated, and where your friends can bail you out and form a human wall between you and the stalker who doesn’t understand what stony silences and pained, prayer-like looks shot to the heavens mean.
I'm not sure if this sort of thing is culturally acceptable here, or creepers just get out of their mind with excitement when they see a sweaty foreigner with blonde hair...but I sure would love for it to stop. ENOUGH with the I-think-I'm-so-sneaky pictures you take of me on the metro..enough of the kissing noises thrown at me by policemen when I haven't showered and am using my don't-mess-with-Texas-walk (guess it doesn't work)....and enough whispering to your friends then turning around and giggling at me - first, giggling is not nearly as dignified in men as you think it is, and second, I AM NOT IN A ZOO. Do not oggle me.
Should I keep cringing, keep running? Or should I find a way to fight back...? It's a big enough problem that us laowai have developed a defensive strategy:
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