Thursday, May 26, 2011


I am able to sublimate my annoyance (and utter disbelief) for Chadwick and his 1950s mentality by drowning out the sound of his annoying nasal voice by the loud crunching of chips and guacamole. Who ever thought to mash avocados and spices with some lime is a mo-fo genius! And the thought of fish tacos and more Diet Coke will surely make the next hour palatable.

“So tell me about your parents,” Chadwick says. “Uh, what?” I ask. He wants to engage me in conversation? I thought he wanted to sit there and act like some modern day maharaja deigning himself to lunch with me. “My father is a Taurus, my mother is a Scorpio. They have been in Minnesota over 30 years. Had a love marriage. And are pretty cool. Oh - both sides of my family hail from West Punjab, the part of India that now belongs to Pakistan,” I say. “I know that West Punjab is in Pakistan. I am surprised you do, being American and all,” Chadwick says. Really? He is THAT kind of Indian, the type that hates American desis so much, that he slogged to get of India, to come to America to make a shitload of money and become a desi supremacist? Then why, then why, then why – would he even WANT to demean himself by considering a date with an American Desi Girl?

“Well – don’t underestimate American desis. We got to grew up deep fried in curry with unibrows, stinking like gingered-onions in American public school and make straight As. And in ugly clothes. If you can survive American high school, you can handle anything,” I reply with an edge forming in my tone. “Oh high school is so hard here?” he sneers. “High school in America is NOT like India. In India the popular kids are the smart ones making good marks. In America popularity is admiration, not merit based. And yes, when you are brown, furry and stinky in places like Fargo, Memphis and Minneapolis – kids tease you,” I reply.

“You get along with your parents?” Chadwick asks. “Yes,” I reply and refrain from reminding him that it is he, not me, who has turned their parents into indentured servants. “Hhhmm,” he says. “What now?” I ask. “I really believe you like your parents. You act like someone who cares very deeply for their elders,” he says. I am stunned. He sounds like he is saying nice things, about me, and to my face. “Really? How have you come to that determination?” I ask, wondering what I said that did not offend him. “I can tell,” he says.

We part ways and I begin walking west. Something about meeting him kinda makes me feel bad about myself, not shameful, but I feel like he tried to belittle me. On a date? Who does this? Maybe he is insecure, annoyed that I like myself and decided to try and knock me down a peg or two. At Fifth Avenue I stumble into Banana Republic. Ah yes, this is what I need - a new dress to rinse away memories of this bad desi date.


Venusallure said...

In India, depending onw hich school you go to public(govt) vs private (public) the popular kids' selection is universal based on "coolness" "beauty" "fashion" factor along with maintaining semi-avg grades. This rule does not beloong to guys. Guys can be cool, stupid and perfect assholes to be popular.

But having attending Indian and US high schools, I can understand. I was blind-sided and attacked in different matters than of ginger-onion and unibrow.

Anyway Chadwick sounds like froma village off Gabon, Africa where they still hunt with spears and are afraid of a mirror.

Oh and i read your ENTIRE blog and have so much to say...Will bug you again later or perhaps shoot you an email if you do not mind.

101 Bad Desi Dates said...

Dear Venusallure -

Thanks for your insight into Indian high school. I have some cousins who were "toppers" and popular. Have listened to my aunt rave about her kids my whole life (not in a bad way).

For the love of Durga I agree - he does sound like some village idiot.

You sure can "bug" me later - but it is not bothering me :) and yes the email address is: I dont check it all the time so send me a note that you have sent me an email there. If I take more than 48 hours to write back.

Desi Girl

Aniket said...

Indian schools can be just as traumatic. Geeks are geeks everywhere, and if you bite your nails like I used to, then good luck! My classmates didn't touch me & treated me like an untouchable for five years because some asshole parent told them kids who bite their nails, spread diseases.

101 Bad Desi Dates said...

Dear Aniket -

That is AWFUL - those parents ARE wankers! How can you spread disease from biting your nails? Must be some superstition or something.

I am so sorry you were treated like that, you are right, geeks are geeks, and one day the geeks will rise! You and I alike - we will rise. Life is for those who want to live it.

Desi Girl

Travel Bug said...

oh gosh I am laughing @ your line'grew up deep fried in curry..'LOL. Even though I grew up in India, I moved to the US as single woman for school. Oh the horrors.
And I lived as a single woman for 8 years. I have been to all those desi dates, sista.I hear ya..I feel ya.Hang in there, the prince is round the corner. Meanwhile have a ball.

101 Bad Desi Dates said...

Dear Travel Bug -

Well it is true - I smelled like Eau de Tharka everyday in school! :) an the good ole days :)

Someday my single days will be over too - you are right - I should just have a ball waiting for my Prince!

Desi Girl