Little Plaid Ones

You ask a guy why he married his wife and you'll get a different answer depending on when you ask the question. If you ask while his wife's around, you'll get an answer ranging from, “I love her”, to a sonnet describing the nature of true love and how it somehow resides in his wife's perfect smile. Fun fact, the sonnet guy either had sex 30 seconds before you asked that question, or is trying to work his way out of a six-year dry spell. Now, if you ask a guy without his wife around... well, guys generally don't do that.

I don't get that question a lot. It's usually something more like, “You're married? I thought you were gay.”, or “How on earth did you get her to go along with that?”, then it's usually back to, “I could have sworn you were gay.” Once you get past my evidently questionable heterosexuality and the natural incredulity that I was smooth enough to trick a girl into marriage, then you run into another detail that throws people off. I'm a goofy white guy, and my wife is quite noticeably Chinese. In the mess of race-relations in America, an Asian-White intermarriage is one of the more acceptable deviations from tradition. Combine that with living in California and we don't have to worry too much about catching flak. Still, from the goofy white guy side you manage to run into a couple major stereotypes; nerd or fetishist.

I'm really more geeky than nerdy, but that's a pretty fine line sometimes. To the fetishist charge I'd have to fall back on my dating record, which prior to Ning, contained no Asians. So, if I'm not an anime/manga obsessed Asian-fetishist, then what could possibly be the attraction?

Miniskirts.

I like miniskirts. Wait, let me rephrase that. I like women in miniskirts. Saying it that first way leaves the option open that I might like wearing them, and, to be perfectly frank, I don't have the ass to pull off a mini. Evening-wear we can talk about later. Anyway, Ning looks pretty damn good in a miniskirt and I'm pretty sure she knows that.

Outside of Vegas, or Reno for those on a budget, a miniskirt does not a marriage make. Usually you have to throw in a little conversation first, if for no other purpose than working out a prenup. Amazingly enough, a hot Asian girl, and a goofy white guy can actually carry a conversation that isn't centered on characters in Japanese cartoons. At some point during the first date she must have figured out that 67% of the things I said were some form of joke. Had she not, then I'm pretty sure that second date wouldn't have come around. We both worked in technology. Her in finance and me in the part that actually contributes something to the company (See how I joke?) , so we had plenty to talk about there. Mostly I was able to tell her when her techies were lying to her, which happened a lot back then. She was smart, and decent enough not to play dumb to make the man feel better about himself. She obviously had a good sense of humor or I would have been pepper sprayed and kicked in very sensitive parts on the first date.

Sure enough, we continued dating and she continued wearing miniskirts, so all was well. She has a good sense of humor, which I mention again because it really is necessary to spend any amount of time with me, and she was very up for trying new things.We had lots of interesting trips overseas. She remembers the scenery and food. I remember things like telling the staring Chinese man that I loved him or causing a teeny little disturbance in Tienanmen Square. Now that I think about it, she probably mentally blocks out a lot of my little adventures. I imagine that makes it easier to keep going on trips with me.

Ning hates paperwork. Fewer things get her angrier than filling out any kind of government form. It's kind of cute to watch. I'm kind of angry all the time, so when Ning gets really worked up about the forms she's about as angry as I am when I'm asleep. It's like watching a kitten play hunter and stalk a toy mouse. That aside, my logic, which I still think is sound, is that once we were married, she would have to fill out a lot of paperwork to leave me. Which gives me a nice buffer zone for whatever stupid things I end up doing. Eventually I spent an unholy amount of money on a ring, took her to a lake and offered her a deal. She marries me, she gets the ring.

Evidently, it was a nice ring.