| dewy decimal |
2003-01-21 - 00:34:41 �
this has been a month for dustin titled "Mistaken nationality Month," a month for people around the island to incorrectly assume that I am not an American kid. I know that I don't wear baggy hip hop gear, drive a cherry automobile, or wear aloha shirts with surf shorts. But I am so confused as to why tight shirts and converse all stars on me equates to the following lines:
Drunk Hula's patron: "I likee chinsese boy! Hey how long will your volleyball team be in Hawaii before returning to mainland china? nihau,nihau."
Prada Sport salesman.: "Irashaimasse. Donna saizu ga suki desu ka?"
Teenage Thug outside Angles: "What, faggot? You lookin' at me?" Dustin: "I'm not a faggot dude." Teenage Thug: "Well, pssst..errrr, go back to Tokyo then, or something."
Trina Hair & Beauty Supply Owner: (errr...paste vietnamese inquiry here) Dustin: Ummm. I'm like looking for some Dax Wax. Owner: (paste second but increasingly more assertive Vietnamese inquiry here) Dustin: ....?..... (trying my best to outwardly show my embarrassment for my utter ignorance of my mother's sister's cousin's neighbor's proctologist's native tongue. Owner's son: he's not Vietnamese mom. Owner: Oh. Ok. You go now.
So yeah. i guess it's not necessarily a bad thing, but it�s also not really the FOB look that i was going for this season. if that were the case, then i would have just wore a t-shirt that said ARMANI EXCHANGE in a big techno sans seriff font screen-printed on the front. the thing is, if i don't get the privileges of shopping at duty free's nationally elitist sections...then what's the fun in being foreign in a waaaaay to familiar place?
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