Mixed Kids

April 9, 2009 - Toronto, Canada

I was tired from delivering boxes of computer stuff around campus.

They must have been bored out their minds.  I walked by their both several times already.  Like many other students at York, I walked right on by.  Like a horse with blinders, I easily ignored all of the groups with their booths and special interests.  I was walking like a man on a mission.

When I walk, I stare directly in front of me.  I am quite adept at not looking at where I'm not going.  I am a focused walker.  Don't give me your pamphlets, don't try to sell me your wares, don't tell me this problem or that problem.  Just don't.

But they were in my field of vision.  I saw him point at me.  I saw her nod in agreement.  I was a target.  Like always, the puppy is a target of a maniacal and diabolical plan. In a sea of students, I of all people got a personalised interruption.  I tried to avoid them, I did.  But they were in the most direct path between me and the door.  It was too late.

Hey man, she's got something to say to you.

What?!?  Who is this girl?  What does she want from me?  How do I get out of this uncomfortable situation / set up?
Uh, listen dude, what do you want?

I don't have anything to say to you, she does.

(If this sounds so grade 7 to you, well maybe you're too young (read: innocent) to spot a team scam / sell.  She really doesn't want to talk to me.  He is the one in charge.  He's just directing traffic to the pretty girl.)

My thoughts of negativity are quickly changed to naught.  Honestly, I would get

a) nothing done


b) more out of life

because of beautiful women.  I'm just drawn to the pretty ones, there is no half baked efforts there.  How do they just get my attention so?  Just as an example, this is what an invitation by a pretty girl sounds like:

Hey, I'm organizing the cultural gala and you're invited.

But I have work.

*Sad eyes* Oh and by invited I mean you're coming.

But I digress.  So I engage in what I like to call, "indugle the heck" out of them aka patronize them to the point of uncomfortableness.

Hi, I'm from the Mixed Students Association at York... blah blah...

How did you know to pick on me?  (Fully well knowing that I got picked on)

Uh, I don't know.

Well, tell me more.  (Most people can hear my sarcasm)

Blah, pot luck... blah... selling... blah.

Yeah?  Where and when?


I've class all day.  I won't be able to make it.

Oh, it doesn't start until 6 and it's room such and such... pub night...

*Smile*  At this point, I'm some uncomfortable distance away from her.  Normal conversations don't happen when one person is smilling, nodding his head and walking away.

I'll see you there! *wave*

The event is tomorrow.  I won't lie, I probably won't go.  Even if she was pretty.
How did they know I was a mixed kid anyway?  Racial Profiling!  The horror!  :)


April 9, 2009
how r u mixed?!
April 10, 2009
Mixed up :)
Found out recently that I'm not just Chinese.
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