The life and times of an ethnically ambiguous little lady.

Monday, August 21, 2006

No, YOU'RE a boob!

One thing that excited me about being in China is that I would be amongst my people. I know I don't look Chinese, persay, but I'm the right height. Other then my size, I'm a dead ringer except for my eyelids with folds, curly hair, and how shall I say, sizeable assets.

While I thought I had found my people, they seemed to disagree. In an airport, a bunch of Chinese women of varying ages swarmed me and insisted I take a picture with them. It was flattering but weird. Whenever a bunch of us Americans were in a group, a curious Chinese person would come up behind us and just stare.

I figured I'd be able to bring some clothing home with me. And I wouldn't even have to shorten the pants! In Bejing, I stepped into a shop with chinese printed shirts.

"Don't worry," the saleswoman exclaimed after taking a look at me, "we have BIG size!"

I half expected her to pull out a mumu. I realize that English is not their first language, nor is tact, but seriously, i'm a sensitive girl. She pulled out an XXL and yet, it refused to close over my ample cleavage.

"Oh, we don't have in China," she said, pointing to my boobs.

"Yeah," I said, sighing, "it's made in America. 100% natural."

And as aggressive as salespeople are in that country, she just left me alone knowing nothing in her store would fit me.

In another store, a woman saw me looking at a shirt and immediately said pointing to the shirt, "No, too small. You try handbag!"

I don't think I've ever worked out as much as I did on this trip. I may not have left China with any clothing or my self esteem, but I did leave with some handbags. Big ones. After all, the bigger the bag, the smaller you look.


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