This is probably the 18th time a stranger came up to me to ask, “Excuse me, may I ask if you’re Korean OR Japanese?” Seriously, the vast options they generously offered make me wonder if there is really a peculiar branch of knowledge on ethnic identification that I’m unaware of. What’s worse, their defying convictions oddly began to make me feel bad when I had to squeeze out a smile and tell the brutal truth.
But today at Amandine Café, this curious gentleman soon proved me over-worrying – apparently unaffected by my rebuff, he handed over a card by the end of our demystifying conversation, “Call me maybe?”… Something must’ve gone wrong, or why would I feel like the band guy in Carly Rae Jepsen’s MV?! All I wanted was really just a chocolate croissant for my sick self; but now I have that guy’s awkward look stuck in my head…What did I do to deserve this…
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