Because I should
A short story in Asian-Asian heterosexuality

So unbidden, today I was recalling Asindia Chang, though that might not be the spelling of her first name, as it has been so many years since. I forget the exact chain of thought that led me back to her, but in any case, this was way back in my under-five-feet days, when I was but a third-grader in the Gifted program back in Miami. The point is that I was a newcomer, as I always seem to be somehow, in my life, and when I joined the school I had to be placed on a team for math. In our proto-capitalistic training, these teams were to gain points for answering math questions and other such challenges correctly, and got rewards for reaching certain benchmarks. I do not remember if my team even had a name--that was privileged earned through points. Let me just say that with me joining the team (Asindia's, strangely enough), we soon earned a name ("The Chinese Connection," I believe, though today it would be "The Asian Invasion" or perhaps even "ABC SuperStores") and before long dominated (perhaps even by an entire order of magnitude) all the competition in the field.

But my overwhelming mathematical prowess even at an early age is not the point of this little story. No, I was attracted to Asindia Chang. Her parents I'd even met long before, when they were giving some sort of presentation to a fifth grade class I was somehow affiliated with, and they were artists in the Chinese mode, with pretty watercolors of tigers or birds or other Chinese animals. So yes, it would have been a good match, the matchmakers I have only heard of through Amy Tan and so on would have approved, and she was Chinese, and seemed virtuous and small. I recall even an erotic dream in which (I couldn't have been more than 10 at the time) I was clad only in an off-purple ratty polo-shirt and doing cartwheels, my boyhood flapping in the wind for all to see, turning cartwheels (I cannot turn cartwheels, but it was a dream) till I came up to her, though she was embarassed, somehow, and I awoke, somehow likewise abashed that I had dreamwise so overstepped the bounds of propriety.

Of course, objectively, there was little attractive about her beside her race--she was not very bright--few are. And I long-buried that particular attraction for a series of other girls, but those are stories for later, accompanied by actual arousal, actually: the point, however, is the strangeness and unfoundedness of it all, which I will pick up when I get home eventually, and rant about Asian fetishes some more, as it just bothers me as I reach old age.

Last I heard, Asindia had grown up to the famous giver of blowjobs in cars. Hrmm... I guess she and I have more in common than I had first thought.