You are currently reading from the Trials and Tribulations of a Crazy Asian Series

Every girl has an FDP routine:  First Date Preparation.  No matter who you are, no matter where you’re from, if you have a vagina, you have a set of steps you take before a boy is about to take you out for the first time.  Some chicks nap before they put make up on, others wear a special bra…I, personally, like to jump up and down on the bed with a ConAir microphone singing Madonna’s “Ray of Light”.  But hey, that’s just me.

This particular summer night was no different…

Jason had told me he would be by to pick me up around 7:30pm.  I had taken a few hours the night before and narrowed it down to three potential outfits based on three different sides of myself I wanted to present first:

  1. The Ho-Bag:  Tight, dark-wash jean mini-skirt, flip-flops (a lady never wears her hooker heels on a first date) and a black tube top with a cropped mini-sweater.  I wanted to make him curious about what might be underneath but then remembered you can’t be curious if you’ve seen everything.
  2. The Smart Girl:  I had a pair of vanity glasses from Claire’s that made me look super Asian.  I figured some jeans with my t-shirt with the dictionary saying “Word” would be super cute and ironic.  Then again, I didn’t want to look like a mega douche or make him believe I wore glasses.
  3. Me:  A pair of jeans and an American Eagle top with some cute pink heels I got from Payless…plain and simple.


Jason Fields lived in a ranch home in South Setauket…about an hour and fifteen minutes away from my humble abode.  Nevertheless, he was a gentleman and made the drive to pick me up.

My dad beat me to the front door after the doorbell rang.  To this day, if I close my eyes, I can still see him perfectly – goofy smile on his face, eyes wide with excitement and awe, hands in pockets as though he were just as nervous.  His hair had that just rolled out of bed look, but the ironed black button-down shirt gave away the fact that he had put some effort in.

“Wow,” he sighed, “you look great.”
“This old thing?” I asked, twirling around.  “Do stop it!”

“Where you kids headed?” my dad asked suspiciously.
“Oh, um,” Jason mumbled, “I hadn’t actually thought about it.” I could tell he was nervous now.  He looked over to me as if to say “A little help here” and asked, “I was thinking maybe dinner?”
“Dinner is always good.”  I smiled.  God his eyes are beautiful.  Lame…I know.

“Actually, Jason – it is Jason, right?” my dad asked.
“Yes, sir?”
“Sir,” my dad smiled, I like that.  “Would you like a beer?”
“Dad, no.”  I said panicked.  “Don’t.”
“Um, ha.”  Jason laughed, looking at me for some help, “I’ll have to pass, sir.  I’m driving – I’m sure you understand.”

My father looked down at his feet, shuffled, put his hand on Jason’s neck, pulling him close and said, “Good man.”
“Well,” I sighed, attempting to break the awkwardness, “we should get going…”
“Actually,”my dad interrupted, “Jason maybe you could help lend me your opinion on something…what’s your favorite beer?”
“Um,” Jason laughed, “that’s a tough one.  I guess I’d have to say Corona is my favorite.”
“Good man!” my dad smiled, patting him on the back.  “You kids have fun now.”

Jason took my hand, still smiling, and we made our way out my front door.  I smiled at him, looked back at my father and felt my heart break as I saw him shake his head…God damn the Booze Box.



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