Sang and Lawrence looked over their shoulders and saw a bunch of waiters, but they knew my type of guy and easily locked in on the waiter I was talking about. Toned arms, worked out but not too muscular, medium-tall height, had a full but short and modest fohawk, Korean. Well, pretty much all the workers were Korean, because Sang, Lawrence, and I were eating at Mr. Lee’s Korean Barbeque House (last Thursday in April). But this Korean guy was exceptionally good looking.
Sang scoffed. “You would, Brian.” Sang glanced back at him. “He’s coming this way. Why don’t you ask him for his number? Here, I’ll do it for yo—”
“NO!”
The cute waiter walked past our table, and our heads slowly followed him until he disappeared into the back. Just then, I realized something about the way I was eating my Korean barbeque.
“Am I supposed to use utensils?”
Holding onto their chopsticks, Sang and Lawrence nodded. This was the fourth time I had been here, and all times, I had been wrapping the beef in the three-inch-by-three-inch pieces of rice paper and popping them into my mouth like mini tacos.
“Shit, what if the waiter thinks I’m hella unattractive because I eat with my hands?” I started using chopsticks. I ended up dropping a piece of beef in my cup of water, and when I tried to pick up my mini rice-paper wrapped beef taco with chopsticks, the whole thing fell apart.
“Brian, you’re really sad,” Sang said. “The waiter’s not gonna care that you’re eating with your hands. Just ask him for his number!”
“No!” I suddenly realized that this was like high school again, back in my old days when I was super gay x10 and my gruh-friends and I would go boy hunting, and everyone would encourage me to simply go up to a random guy and ask him for his number. Of course, I would always come up with a convoluted plan instead, and of course, the plan would always fail or make me look stupid. Although being straightforward didn’t always make me look good either.
---
 A picture of me at the Key Club ball. Look at me. I’d go “WTF” if I were anyone else too. |
Written April 2nd, 2006 (Excerpted)
[T]he first hour of the dance [semi-formal Key Club ball] was a little bit dull. I was bummed due to guy problems, and Peter and [his girlfriend at the time] were dancing with each other, so I had no one else to talk to. [After some encouragement from Peter,] I tried mingling and talking to other guys, but somehow that just didn't work out...
Me: "Hey."
Random Cute Asian Guy: "Hey."
Me: "ARE YOU GAY?"
Random Cute Asian Guy: "What the fuck?"
Peter: "Brian, you're a dumbass."
---
“I have a plan.”
“This should be good,” Sang said.
The cute waiter stopped at our table and asked if we needed anything. I jumped in at the opportunity, and, trying to combine flirty with sexy, I asked, “Yeah, um, uh, could I get a, uh, a new, y’know”—stuttering, I held up my cup of water to him for him to peer inside—“There’s meat in my water.”
“Oh yeah sure,” and he rushed away.
I put my cup down.
Sang shook his head.
---
“Confessions of One Sad and Pathetic Stalker”
Written June 3rd, 2006 (Excerpted)
Today was the last school day for the seniors. (All other classes get out [next] Thursday.) That meant I had only one more day left to have any kind of contact with Hot Emo Kid in anyway.
Basically, Hot Emo Kid, just like his name, is a really hot emo kid [[actually, his style was hardly emo; I was just really bad at labels in high school]]. He's Filipino, his skin is very nice and dark, he BREAKDANCES, and he's straight...I hardly ever called him by his real name; he was simply just Hot Emo Kid to me.
I remember this once incident back in March when Hot Emo Kid might’ve realized that I was stalking him. Me and my friend Trang were following him rather closely from behind, and then he stopped, turned around and looked towards our direction. Not knowing what to do at all, I freaked out, shoved Trang off the sidewalk, turned around quickly, and stood there “casually.” I did not do this while he was turning around; I did this as soon as he was looking right in our direction. I don’t think what I did there made me invisible at all. And Trang wasn’t too happy that I pushed her either.
So anyways, back to the final day of school for the seniors. Kathleen gave me a crazy idea: Take a picture with Hot Emo Kid. I was so upset that he was leaving and that I never got a chance to say anything to him except, “Here’s your book,” so I figured I might as well just try something now since it was possible that I would never see him that often again. The plan was that I would just go up to him and tell him that I had admired his style for a while and that I would just like to take a picture with him before he went off to college. But as the moment approached closer and closer, that idea just started saying, “Hi, I’m your stalker and now I want a picture of you.”
When we—me, Kathleen, Maggie, Thuy, Loppy, Le...it’s like I had an audience… Anyway, when we walked in, Hot Emo Kid and his other senior friends were in there partying it up or whatever. We didn’t know what to do, so we got Amanda [a mutual friend] to help us. And I owe Amanda like hella sex [[she probably wouldn’t want it]] for what she did.
 Seriously, why the fuck is there a giant tarantula on my head. |
So after the photo was taken, I don’t really remember what happened because everything happened in a flash. I like, got up quickly, grabbed the camera, and got the fuck out of there. I yelled back over my shoulder, “And you’re hot!” to Hot Emo Kid and was out the door. My heart must’ve been oozing out of my anus. So me and my friends celebrated, and for the rest of the day, I felt like I was in a dreamworld living a fantasy. And all I did was take a picture with him.
Me and Maggie later asked Amanda about what she whispered to Hot Emo Kid earlier, but she only told us, “Oh, he said he already knew.” I was going crazy because that was so vague; what did he already know? That I hella thought he was hot? That I stalked him a lot? That I hella had a superficial crush on him?
---
After finishing Korean BBQ, Sang went off to CADC practice and Lawrence and I went to the ARC. In on of the dance rooms, he taught me a Korean Boy Band piece he learned when he took class at the Team Millenia Dance Studio earlier in the week. The song was Love Like Oxygen, by SHINee. I never felt like such a gay Korean pop star fanboy until now.
Afterwards, I went back home to my apartment, and out of whim, I decided to look up Hot Emo Kid—Raymund—on Facebook. The one thing that made stalking him really frustrating during high school was that he had no social networking websites—no Myspace, no Facebook. Maybe he finally got a Facebook. I was somewhat pleasantly surprised to see that he did, so I dug through it a little bit.
He got his Facebook account during summer 2009, so it was no wonder I still couldn’t find him after I graduated from highschool. I looked through his photos, and I thought he was...only okay looking. Back in high school, I didn’t know what a Filipino was until I learned of him, and that started my Filipino fever. But after I broke up with Ray—oh shit, the names (well, his whole name was Ranier but I called him Ray)—I guess I was done with Filipinos.
NOW IT’S TIME FOR CUTE KOREAN BOYS. MMMM KBBQ.
2 comments:
stop fetishizing races.
perpetrator.
Hmmm..I think you were pretty cute when you were in high school. Yea that Emo-hot-kid wasnt all that, I have no idea what you saw in him. KOREANS are HOt hot hot.
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