Typing While Asian: Apparently a Conversation Starter

The story I have for you this week is a story from one of my travels as a stand-up comedian.

It was around 2022, and I think it was during my tour with Ronny Chieng for his "Hope You Get Rich" tour, where some tour locations could not be accessed via a direct flight. Sometimes, I would have a layover at an airport, which is where this story took place. 

Airport Lounges and Bad Conversations

I was in a United lounge on a weekday, maybe a Monday, when I sat at the bar counter, which I often do when travelling. Bar seating is amazing because you can use it like transformer seating. You can stand up and work on your laptop, or you can sit and use it. That's probably the original sit-stand desk.

So I'm sitting at the bar, working on my laptop, because, again, it's the middle of the day on a weekday. I'm minding my own business and working. There is a man, an older man, seated two seats away from me on the left, and he's by himself, like I am, and he's drinking a drink, fine.

Eventually, at some point, he realizes that I am there and also realizes that he wants to have a chat. So he keeps looking over and, you know, women know the look of a man, that dangerous look that means that he wants to fuck, no worse, that he wants to have a conversation. 

Yes, the bane of my existence, the random, bad conversations with an old man who wants to tell you something or teach you a lesson or say stupid shit for his own indulgence. More about that later, he kept looking over, and I knew what he was doing. He looked over exaggeratedly, trying to start something with me, and I wasn't having it, so I focused on my computer, as if I were in an exam. 

At one point, when he couldn't get my attention after just 28 times, he said out loud to the air, because at that point, nobody else was around, "People these days, they're so serious, always on their computers. You know, you have to have fun in life. You can't take it with you."

And my response was nothing. I kept working because I don't want to talk to this guy even more now. So I kept working, and then a couple of minutes later, he did it again, but this time he tried to talk to me and impersonate me. He exaggerated what I was doing. He hunched his shoulders forward like he had momentary scoliosis, and he put his hands up like they were little pterodactyl arms. He started rapping on an imaginary keyboard, and he squinted his eyes, I swear to fucking god, he squinted his eyes, and he looked over and he goes, "Look at you. You look so studious. You're so Asian.”

I know, you're shocked, and so was I. But to assuage my shock, he said, "Oh no, I'm half Japanese. I can say that it's okay." And let me assure everybody that it is not fucking okay. None of this was fucking okay. And was he half Japanese? I would have believed it anyway. He looked like many people I've seen when I’ve visited Hawaii, but he wasn't in a Hawaiian shirt. He was in something like a button-up shirt, like a man of leisure. Maybe he was just chill and doesn’t have any structure in his life. He actually, surprisingly, looked a little bit like Mr. Miyagi from the Karate Kid. Only half as much, a bit diluted and white though. This man could have been Mr. Miyagi’s son, and maybe in his 60s or 70s.

My sole objective was not to look at him. And even when he said that, you look so Asian, even when he said, You look so Asian, I fucking ignored him. And the more I ignored him, the more he had to make a whole show out of being amused at himself and talking even louder. 

This Is Not An Episode of Cheers

I was very happy when someone sat beside him, someone who wasn't me. There was a man who came and sat on his left. So, there's the man, sitting in an empty chair, and then there's me. And so they started having a conversation about this or that, I don't fucking know, because I don't fucking care.

You would think that this man would be happy now that he had somebody, a willing participant in this fucking thing at the bar. I mean, did he watch too many episodes of fucking Cheers? Did he think it was a requirement to sit at a bar and then have a chat with everybody, because I think he did. 

While he was talking with this guy, he could have focused on this person; instead, he kept looking over at me. He kept including me in his conversation, and I made it as difficult as possible for him, as a punishment, because he had nothing proper to say. He could have just said, at any point, "What are you doing? I'm lonely. Tell me a little bit. Where are you from?" Anything like that. I would have indulged in a one-minute conversation even though I was busy, but this man did not want a two-way conversation. He just wanted to chat to a woman, even though he had somebody to talk to. 

Focused On Everything But You

Ironically, at this point, it was no longer working because whenever a situation like this happened, I would text people about it. Okay? I'm texting all of my friends, not all of them, but the usual suspects, to whom I can tell these stories. And I'm like, telling them what's going on. Like, that's telling them what's going on. And I'm like, can you believe this? And they're always like, "Girl, of course, we can believe this. You are a woman in public." Of course, anything can fucking happen, you know. 

So I'm focusing on pretending to be busy, even though I'm texting my friends and making fun of this guy. I'm working really hard because it's a deterrent. Eventually, he intruded, and it was a serious intrusion. He's like, “What are you focusing so hard on? What are you doing anyway?” 

And for the first and only time that day in that United lounge, I looked directly at him and I said, “I'm focusing on not talking to you.”

Bad Conversations

The way this guy was acting was similar to how kids interact with other kids, poking them, making funny faces, and sounds, except it's somewhat acceptable when it's a child. 

That's the point, though: these old men treat women, women who are younger than them, like infants. These little attempts at conversation—whether they come up to you and want to tell you something, teach you a lesson, or say something fucking basic about what you're doing or what you're wearing—have happened a lot of the time. That's what they're doing because they don't fucking know how to have an actual conversation. 

I don't know what the fuck he wanted from me. If he had said something normal and respectful, I could have responded coherently. I am not a stupid person. I am capable of a normal conversation, but he was treating me like a pet or some fucking infant, and I was not having it.

Now, let me break here by saying this is not the only time this has happened. I've had this happen before. There are numerous examples, and my husband has been there for many of them. He is baffled by how different people, especially older men, treat me compared to how they treat him and his friends or anyone else he knows. Simply, old men often do this to women.

Zone One Boarding

Another rage-inducing situation occurred on a plane when my family and I were travelling. This time, the airline upgraded my husband, me, and our daughter to business class.

So, we walked into the business class area and took our seats. We encountered an older man. We had noticed him in the lineup because he was trying to hold court with complete fucking strangers who were just in line to board. He was trying to have conversations by just saying dumb shit, like "maybe the flight was delayed."

He was this imaginary figure because I was ignoring him, and I didn't want to reward that stupid, fucking obnoxious, centred behaviour. He was saying things like, "Oh, of course, it's Air Canada delayed as usual," or he'd be like, "I'm sure we'll make it up in the air, which they're always able to do, but somehow, only when we're delayed." 

You know what else we didn't like about him? He had on the loudest eyeglasses ever. All I have to say is when an old man has a hat or glasses that has more personality than him, like featuring fucking prints on the, you know, he is trouble. In essence, this guy wants to have a conversation, thinks he’s amazing, and wants to be the hero of the conversation, while you are the victim. So, I ignored him the whole time we were boarding our plane.

Don't Put Your Bag In My Overhead

While I got seated, this obnoxious man was also in business class. He's up in the second row, and I'm in the fourth row. I didn't have any carry-on because we were going somewhere, and I had checked everything except a backpack, which I respectfully put under the seat. However, if you bring only one bag, you can also put it up there and enjoy the legroom. 

Anyway, this man looks dead at me as I take my seat. He looked me dead in the eyes, and he said, "I will be putting my bags up there," as in the compartment above my head. There was plenty of luggage room everywhere, to the left and to the right, and certainly up where he was. 

I was so mad, I didn't even flinch. I didn't even think about it for a second. My immediate instinctual response was to point my finger in his face and say loudly in a scolding way, “You’ll have to wait”.

My husband laughed so hard in his head, and we texted about it after I said, "You will have to wait." It is one of the biggest stories of my life to talk about entitled people like that.

It's fucking men like that who probably have never been talked like that, but really need to be talked like that. It's not even like I'm being aggressive towards him. I am just matching energy. 

The Worst Kind of Flyer

So we're on the flight and we're doing our thing. And since we're in a confined plane, I could see him talking to the flight attendant, and I think he shot finger guns. I thought to myself, "Oh, I fucking hate this guy."

When we deplaned and went to get our luggage, he just happened to be standing next to us. Meanwhile, my daughter had just mastered the cartwheel, and fucking good for her. And this guy was like, "Huh, you can't keep that one restrained, or you can't. She's got a lot of energy, huh?" 

My husband and I completely stonewalled him, pretended we didn't hear him. We completely fucking ignored him, and he did it like three or four different times. We fucking know when we hate somebody, and we hated this guy. We didn't even have to have a conversation about it after. Then our luggage came and we were off. 

Conversational Terrorism

My point is this: this is a fucking tax on being a woman. I've had this happen many times. Men will try to talk to you and waste your time because they want to indulge themselves and feel validated. 

We're women, and we're often busy. There should be a sign that I flip when I'm open to conversation. I would be one of the first people to help someone if they actually lost something or fell, but don't fucking start a conversation with me without a "Hello" or even asking me if we can talk. 

But honestly, I had to be on the defensive at that moment. There are days when I'm willing a little bit more to talk to people and indulge them a little bit, but not this fucking kind of man. 

I do have a joke about it, and  I call it conversational terrorism (or listen below). Do not come in to talk to a woman, to tell her something, or teach her a fucking lesson, or use her as an instrument to make yourself feel significant, because you can just assume she has something better to do. 100,000% she has something better to do, and she doesn't want it.