The Fever

Last night, I was at Stetsons with Erin, you know, just drinking orange juice.

In walks these three Asian chicks with three white guys. One girl was quite cute, the second was less cute, and the third was, frankly, rather busted - let’s call them Lucy Liu, Lisa Ling, and Margaret Cho.

You just know that Dude A started dating Lucy, and then Dudes B and C (possibly his roommates) were all like, “Dude, hook uss uuppp!”

So Dude A and Lucy, wanting to spread their new interracial love, introduce Dude B to Lisa, and then Dude C had to settle for Margaret.

“Omigod, check out Asian Fever,” Erin whispers as they are walking by.
I’m thinking, “Jesus, that’s like full-blown Asian Plague.”

Asian Fever, also known less politically correctly as “Yellow Fever,“ occurs when a white male is predominantly or exclusively attracted to Asian females.

The symptoms used to be quite obvious - studied abroad in Asia, love of anime, Samurai swords on the mantel, fluency with pick-up lines in three or more different Asian languages - but it’s all gotten much more ambiguous lately.

The second generation of Asian girls have come to age, and the market has changed. The supply curve has shifted to the right, and the cost of acquiring an Asian girl has gone down. You no longer need to go to Asia, understand the culture, speak the language, or even know how to use chopsticks - just go to Adams Morgan on a Saturday and buy one of the three girls grinding to “Boom Boom Pow” a shot of Cuervo, chilled.

And now that I am recently single, I myself plan to use the Asian Fever phenomenon for my own benefit.

Next time I get lonely, I will go to the nearest Anime Expo dressed as Chung-Lee from Street Fighter. I hear it’s like shooting fish in a barrel.