no referral bonus this quarter

From here you can get an excellent view of my foot.

 - Pai Mei

 

Have you ever hung out with or tried to befriend someone who inexplicably sucked?

 

Earlier this summer, Rosemary introduced me to a friend of hers through one of those here's-my-friend-CC'd-have-at-it emails. This happens a lot when you live in a transit hub like Hong Kong. He was a white guy coming to study in a master's program at a Hong Kong university. He had attended a second-tier Ivy League school in New York. (Not the City).

 

"Since you're both fabulous, you could start hanging out!" she wrote, signing off with an uncharacteristic "Cheers!"

 

I have always been game to make new friends, so I dutifully followed up and we became Facebook friends and gch buddies. In fact, we had several long gch's that showed great promise. The banter bounced back and forth quite effortlessly.  I creeped his photos as per usual and he seemed like a decently fun guy who could photograph moderately well, at least at weddings. I looked forward to welcoming another fellow like-minded Ivy League graduate to Hong Kong.

 

In our gch's I tried to flesh him out and I can say with confidence I vetted him much more carefully than the Republican vice-presidential nomination process.

 

"Are you a vegetarian?" I queried.

 

"Oh no, I eat everything...I love Chinese food," he promised. "I loved the food in Beijing." (White Guy had experience with real Chinese food, it seemed.)

 

"Some people don't like local food," I warned.

 

"Please, I've had deer penis wine," he gched, adding: "Dude, you can't phase me."

 

I picked him up when he got off the plane and accompanied him to his temporary accommodations in the dorms. I even gave him a welcome-wagon bag of snacks and juice boxes.

 

But by the second or third time we hung out, I began to get a sinking feeling--this cat was not that cool. Maybe it was the things he said, or the way he said them. I found his company increasingly disappointing and tiring.

 

But one day I was feeling charitable and some time freed up on my calendar--so I invited him to have dinner with me and a girl friend.

 

"Dinner this week, local restaurant or SoHo?" I texted

 

"Local it is," he affirmed.

 

OK white guy unafraid of Chinese cuisine--let's see if your palate is up to snuff.

 

So I took my two intrepid American friends to one of my favorite local haunts. As I pointed the way to the entrance White Guy said "Oh no...this place?"

 

"What, you've been here before?" I asked, surprised.

 

"Yeah...I'm not...I would prefer something else," he said.

 

"Well...okay," I acquiesced reluctantly. I didn't understand what his objection would be, but there were many other restaurants nearby so I was accommodating--but he had prided himself in our gch's on his ability, propensity, and willingness to eat anything. So as we walked away from the restaurant I thought, I could be overly sensitive and not know, or I could be real and know what White Guy's problem was.

 

"So did it give you the runs?"

 

"What?"

 

"The food at that restaurant, what was wrong with it? Did you have GI tract problems?"

 

"No, that wasn't it."

 

"Well maybe you ordered the wrong thing, they make a lot of different kinds of dishes."

 

"I dunno."

 

"Then what was it?"

 

"The food came out too fast."

 

"And...you think that's a bad thing?" You shit kicker, next thing you'll probably complain about is how service is slow in Hong Kong. I was beyond baffled.

 

"Well...it was sketchy. I didn't trust it. It was like they hadn't made the food for my order."

 

This guy was clearly not legit, but I put it behind me and we walked on towards another local restaurant--one that I thought was pretty good, actually.

 

When we finished the meal and ran out of mediocre conversation, I asked, "So would you bring a friend here?"

 

"No...I didn't think the food was that great, actually," he said.

 

It was the last nail on the coffin of his I-can-eat-anything-you-can't-phase-me claims. Who did he think he was talking to, another American? I am Chinese. I know Chinese food. I know what's good or not. This guy was clearly not legit.

 

It's not that I scorn people who can't stomach or don't like certain foods. I have plenty of white/foreign friends who are squeamish about local food--afriad of cartilage, afraid about hygiene, afraid of MSG, afraid of what-have-you.

 

But don't come here on your high horse broadcasting that you know and understand Asian culture, and then shy away from something as inconsequential as "the food came out too quickly," fucker!

 

Silly Caucasian boy likes to dabble in Chinese food and culture.

He couldn't actually understand Chinese culture.

But at least he could try to stomach the food.

 

It makes me wonder: when will I stop meeting Caucasian shit kickers who don't really understand or respect Chinese culture, and actually meet someone legit?