When I was little, and growing up in the dairy farmlands of Harrisonburg, nobody in that hicksville had any idea what a Korean person was.  All through elementary school, people always gave me the “are you Chinese or Japanese?” schtick, like a real-life King of the Hill.  When I said no to both, most people were absolutely baffled, and had no idea of what possible alternatives there could be to Chinese or Japanese people.

A long while ago, I wrote about a how a kid in my neighborhood apparently thought I was Spanish, and said “hola” to me.  Throughout the last few months, this kid has seen me a few times during my morning jogs, and has said “hola” to me on all those instances.  Because I’m not Spanish, I do not respond ever.

Just the other night, while I was out on my evening jog, I ran by two little batarians, to which one of them said “hola” to me.  Seeing as how I was now right next to the kid, I finally said, “I’m not Spanish.  You don’t have to say ‘hola’ to me.

Being in numbers often times creates a false sense of courage in kids, so the other kid laughed, and began motoring his mouth as I proceeded to leave them behind.  In the midst of my pulling away I heard “So what are you?  French?  Italian?  You speak Japanese?

Wow.  Aside from being Spanish, I’m mistaken for a French person, or an Italian person, before even hitting the continent of Asia?  Man, these little black kids live in a sheltered world.  I’m actually surprised at how dumb these kids are going to grow up to be.

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