My “Asian” looking girlfriend and I took a trip to the Pacific Northwest. We stopped off to eat at a diner. There, we met some really wonderful American Indians. We got to talking. I pointed to my girlfriend across the room and told him (a forked-tongue lie that) my wife was American Indian. She looks kind of, sort of, like one and if he believed it, why not? I impressed him with my fishing skills (from years of being a deckhand) so much that he gave me this wonderful fillet of smoked salmon, vacuum sealed and still on the plank of apple wood it was cooked on.
I put it away and tried to leave quite, quickly but he would not let me. It seems, there was some sort of party the tribe was having that night and he invited me and my girlfriend. I told him we were late and really needed to get to my family’s house. So, he went over to talk to my girlfriend to try to convince her of the importance of both her, as an American Indian, and I coming to the party. That is when I heard, “I am not Indian, I am Pilipino! Who told you I was Indian?” She blew it, and we had to make a quick get away.
On our trip to Hawaii, we were on a space available L1011 flight back home. She was sitting near the front of the plane, and I near the back in the center of the center row. I was squashed in my seat. The plane was full of Japanese Americans and I think we were the only ones not. Then, they started breaking out these wonderful foods; California Rolls, Alaska Rolls, and these things made with pastry puff with rice, and a slim slice of spam inside. This was torture watching all this wonderful food going around and I wasn’t getting any. So, I started a conversation with the nice woman next to me about how wonderful it is to have a Japanese Wife. As if a light switch was turned on, I was offered all these different and extremely wonderful foods. I thought I had died and went to heaven.
Then it happened. She came back to check on me. She saw all this wonderful food with great smells in front of me. So, I looked at my girl and said, “Have I introduced you to my Japanese Wife?” as I winked at her to play along. She said, “I am not Japanese and we aren’t married! I am Pilipino” There was so much more great and wonderful food I had not tried! How could she do this to me? There was still three more hours left on the flight home, and I was tortured the entire time and did not get anything else.
The next trip, we took a cruise to Cozumel, Mexico. A hurricane had hit the city and the locals were still rebuilding. I was in negotiations to purchase a shirt. The vender told me he would not come down at all, “You Americans owe it to us to help us build our city back.” I responded with, “My wife is Mexican. In fact, her Grandmother even made tortillas for Poncho Villa. Look, I’ll just come back after the cruise ship leaves and bring her relatives to let everyone know what a crumb you are.” He replied, “Which one is your wife?” I yelled out, “Ola Honey!” and waved at her. She replied, “Ola.” The guy sold me the shirt for .
Then it happened. She could not leave well enough alone. She had to go over to his shop. The guy starts speaking Spanish to her. She replied, “I don’t speak Spanish, I am an American.” The guy glared at me. “We gotta go.” And I rushed my wife away.
Even though I am paying for all these trips, she refuses to go along with any of my stories even though she could really help me have a better life. We have another vacation planned in January. How can I get her to go along with my stories on this vacation?
So, I take it you folks don't think she will go along with being Eskimo?
Hey "!" I do not want to talk about abortions. Sorry for not answering your question.
