I was dismissed on the Sea Turtle this morning.
I was staring off into space and listening to music while waiting for the boat to arrive. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone standing beside me who was quite literally rocking out – a large lady in a gray muumuu/coat was staring at me and rocking back and forth as though her very life depended on it. I tried not to make eye contact, but it was obvious she was trying to get my attention – as soon as I glanced her way, her mouth started moving. I reluctantly pulled an ear bud out and listened to her mouth words:
Old Gray Rocker: Dooooooo yoooooou speeeeeak CAN-TON-ESE?
Me: No, I-
OGR: Are you Japanese?
Me: I-
OGR: Korean? Something else I didn’t understand but sounded like “orka”?
Me, finally getting a word in edgewise: I’m actually half Malaysian *smile*
OGR: OH. *turns and pointedly looks away*
WELL. How rude! And she made me stop listening to my angry punk rock for THAT? You suck, old gray coat lady!
Of course, she may have a very valid reason for being so dismissive of my entire half-race. As near as I can puzzle out, when she was young and beautiful and not nearly so gray, she had a dizzying romance with a handsome man who swept her off her humble feet. He showed her a lifestyle the likes of which she had never dreamed, introducing her to high society and all the finer things in life like opera and wine and meals that required special forks and finger bowls. She was head over heels in love, and she knew – just knew – that he was planning to propose to her that evening during their romantic Valentine’s Day dinner. Little did she know, however, that the handsome man’s mother was the iron-fisted ruler of her family and she had cruelly decreed that he would NOT marry filth below his station but rather into another family with the right connections to further her quest for power. That evening’s dinner, unfortunately falling on Valentine’s day was not going to be a proposal – it was going to be the handsome man’s goodbye; one last evening of romance with his true love before he was whisked away to marry General Wong’s dumpy but high-bred daughter.
Heartbroken, the young and beautiful girl grew bitter and resolved. She swore she would get revenge on the woman who ruined her one chance at love, and spent the next 30 years training to be the world’s best and most sneaky assassin. She had long since lost track of her target, but using her secret assassin skills she tracked the family down to Vancouver. Naturally, a highly skilled assassin roaming the streets would call attention to her plan, so a disguise was in order. She let herself go to the point where she would be absolutely invisible to the world around her – unremarkable in every way – and started the hunt that would finally release her from her hellish prison of broken hearts and shattered dreams.
Unfortunately for the now old, gray, bitter assassin, tracking down one single Chinese woman in Vancouver is very, very difficult. She moved aimlessly from neighbourhood to neighbourhood, approaching every woman she saw who could possibly be the target of her hatred and sharp pointy swords. She used every assassin trick in the book to start up conversations, gathering as much information as possible to discern if she had the right person in her sights. As the years went on, she became older and grayer and bitterer and rounder. Her conversations skills, while flourishing, did her little good in the end as her target continued to evade her. As she grew increasingly frustrated, she started using a direct process of elimination method to sort out the women around her: are you Chinese? No? Then go away.
This morning, it was my turn. Upon finding out that I could not possibly be the woman she had sworn to kill, she promptly dismissed me and by doing so, allowed me to live. She will have to continue her hunt, slowly closing in on the woman who stole her love by narrowing down her choices, one random Asian woman at a time.
Good luck, sneaky assassin! May your sword finally taste the juicy tang of victory!
