Hasians, mmmmm.

I almost fulfilled my fantasy in dating a hot Asian boy. It's true, if you don't already know this about me, I somewhat have Asian fever. Which was brought on by watching too many anime and samurai movies as a young kid. Some people had romance novels, I had Jet Li. Some people loved King Arthur, I wanted a Ninja. 

Of course, the main problem with having Asian fever, when you are 5'10, is that many of them are about half your size, and if they are not half your size, then they are weirdly proportioned (ever seen Yao Ming, famous Chinese basketball player, sure he is a good player, but he also moves around like a marionette doll, his body clearly uncoordinated). So throughout my grown up life, I secretly held onto my longing desire to date a hot Asian. Or Hasian, as urban dictionary has so fondly nicknamed them.  

My first boyfriend was half Filipino, but unfortunately I don’t really count him as Asian, because as much as he tried to play up that halfy Asian card, he looked Spanish. 

During art school I had a huge crush on a Japanese boy, but again he was half my size, and his girlfriend was half his size. Obviously a sizeist, and out of my league. Years later, when I moved to Japan, I thought surely in a land of a billion hasians I would find one to fall madly in love with (preeminently because the Japanese men, in my mind, are some of the hottest hasians out there, I mean just look at their outfits!!! I heart the 80s!!!). Nope. I did not find a single one. Dated one, briefly, but there were other things at play aside from my height (mostly Japanese mothers). Granted, I did get a lot of Japanese men complimenting my looks, "American woman, big boobs, yeah!" 

So it was rather rare for me to stumble across a Hasian on an online dating site. 

If you have ever used an online dating site, it's not that it is devoid of Asians (in fact I think about 40% of online dating sites are made up of Asians) but it IS devoid of hot Asians. And boy oh boy was this one a gold mine. Hot, and I mean HAWT! With samurai long hair, tall (did I say 6'0 and not awkward), slim hips, raspy Bob Dylan voice, talented (singer, songwriter, incredible guitar player), well read, well spoken, and a smile that cocked to the side just the right way. 

Sweet, beejesus holy mother of all that is good, GOLD MINE!!!  Whatever was I going to do with myself!!! I was ---><--- close to licking my screen. 

At this point, I almost wish I had a fairy godmother, who would come down and say to me, "Jessica, now why would such a hot piece of Asian ass be on a dating site?"

And I would have to respond to her, "well, I am a hot piece of ass, and I am on here..."

And then she would raise one of her sparkly eyebrows, and remind me that I am cursed in the boy department, and point at my blog as proof.  

Of course I would stomp my foot at this admission, and whine about maybe he is a dime a dozen, a diamond in the rough, cursed like me, in which our curses combined would cancel it all out. 

And of course she would laugh at my stupidity. Dammit Fairy godmother, you ruin everything. 

Of course, I don’t have a fairy godmother, and none of that happened. Thus, I emailed the hot Asian.  Bring on that psychosis. 

By email three, the strange tidbits began to surface. Things that made one go: maybe he is not a paradox in the universe. 

For one. He only dated older women. Did I forget to mention he was four years younger than me? Well, I was young to him by his standards, as his normal affairs were at least ten years older than him. And by normal, I mean all of them. 

For two. His parents paid for everything. And I mean everything (I should also point out that he is two years away from being thirty). At the time he was still going to school, so I couldn’t hold that against him, but they also paid for his room and board, his food...etc...etc. Part of me wondered if his dad would be paying for dinner, the movie, the condoms. That conversation did play in my head:

"Wait, do you have a condom?" 

"Oh shit no I don’t, let me call my dad to transfer some money over so I can go pick them up." 

"From Asia? Wouldn't that take at least three days?"

"Hmm...ok, well hold this ~gesture at our naked bodies~ thought...."

Ok maybe that’s a little absurd, but these are things I think about when I am being told that mumsie and dadsie pay for everything. Its not that, that should necessarily be a bad thing, some parents are just more generously endowed with money to splurge on their children, and yes I have been chastised by my friends for thinking this silly, but in the end, what sort of struggle has he had to achieve anything, if everything has been given to him? And, on top of that,  if he liked to date older women, it did make me wonder if it was just in his general nature to be taken care of.  I should also allude to the fact that he was the baby in his family, and the only male. In an Asian culture, pampering doesn’t even come close to these types. Adoring worship would be more of an accurate assessment. 

Three. He viewed me through a series of standardized tests. Am I an INFJ, ENPJ...ABCD, BBDD???!!!!....I already have a problem with standardized testing, but to relate to my personality type through such a thing, well fine, then let me break out my tarot deck and get a reading on you while we are at it. (Oh, and in case you are wondering I am an INFJ, now you know everything about me.) 

Four. He began to tell me how he wanted to hold me, and how he saw a future with me. I don’t know about other ladies, but hearing this from a guy with whom I have had a handful of email interactions with (that mainly involved around reading books), and a Skype conversation (that revolved around him obsessing over his guitar) that admission was CREEPY. I imagined him lathering me up with lotion so he could use my skin as a new case for his guitar. Going too far? Well I don’t like when guys are overtly romantic for no known reason, especially when they have yet to meet me in person. Serial killers are that way; Ted Bundy used this to his advantage. Cute guys who use early declarations of endearment equal one thing to me, false. 

So basically, I realized I had to put down my hot Asian. Mercy kill. I waited a day, because part of my irrational mind was stuck in my imagination and my imagination was stuck on how great he would look on my arm. My very own hot Asian party favor, he would go great at art openings. The rational side of my mind was like...this guy is going to be problem, if this is not resolved quickly. 

So I ended it. With a thank you, it’s been great, but I don’t think there is a match. I mean, after my birthday experience, I learned some great phrases, though instead of sugar coating it with heartfelt lies, I basically told him the truth. You are hot, but too many red flags. Thank you and goodbye. 

Two hours later, I get a 24 minute recorded conversation of how he feels. This is no simple voicemail message, this was a computer recording that he attached to an email (which was also a long missive explaining his emotions). So I basically got a double whammy of explanatory emotional diarrhea. The recording not only had him crying, it had him telling me how he could get any hot girl he wanted, that he was going to be successful, and how dare I, obviously I have issues to not choose him, and that he opened up to me and that had to count for something, and in the end its all about manifestation, and if I manifest that its not going to work, then it is not, but that he is manifesting that it will.

---Oh lord. 

Is it a bad thing to say that I laughed? Ok, part of me felt slightly bad, I did, at the beginning, but when he started talking about how he could get any girl, and yet here he was recording a comeback to my farewell email, all I could think of was, THANK YOU GOD I didn’t sleep with you.

Maybe all in all, my fairy godmother did come to visit me after all. She just hid in the periphery. I owe you one Fairy Godmother. But man, a samurai boyfriend would have been so cool.