By John Michael McGrath
Though my title cleverly references a TV show and the luckiest number in Asian numerology, I can’t deliver on its promise. Lord Almighty, it turns out there’s no one Chinese Girl TM out there to date and marry. They’re all different! My wife Vicki is even totally different from her sisters! It’s weird. The internet did not prepare me for this.
I also blame the internet, nerve centre of all fetishes, for the super-awkward first meeting with Vicki’s closest friends. Immediately upon sitting down for coffee one afternoon in 2000, they asked if I’d ever dated a Chinese girl before. Answer: No. Next question: have I dated any other Asian women before? (No.) Third question: Are you sure? (Um, yes.) My answers didn’t actually seem to convince anyone. I’m pretty sure I was considered a rice king until proven innocent. Almost 12 years later, I’m relatively certain I’ve put them at ease.
I’d actually recommend this experience to other people of a paler persuasion. Not specifically accusations of Yellow Fever, but I think more white people could use some baseless assumptions about their skin colour making them really uncomfortable at least once or twice a year. At the very least, it would make that score look a bit less like the Harlem Globetrotters vs. the Washington Generals.