Why do Asians really get straight A's? - Project Gutenberg Consortia ...

here we go again!
"I'm American, that's my nationality," I intelligently reply, knowing full well that she will
not accept my truthful answer.
"No. I mean, your nationality. Are you Korean?" she mistakenly asks again, not knowing
that I've already answered her question.
"My nationality is American." She looks at me with a condescending glare and walks
away into the back of the store. Asians asking other Asians about their ethnicity or racial
heritage—not nationality— is the same as people asking the proverbial, “ What do you do? ”
Asian people are sizing you up, to see if you're an ethnicity worth talking to. Apparently, the
store manager didn't like my answer and judges those that do not adhere to the sacrosanct
Asian Status Hierarchy.
After what really seems like an eternity, Emilie finally comes out, her stunning beauty
magnified by the white sheath dress. She walks down the hallway, looking like an ethereally
divine angel sent to save me.
"Well, what do you think?"
"You look amazing," I reply, "but I might look better in it." I love joking with her.
"How about we have a dress-off and find out who really looks better?" Emilie rebuts,
overturning my joke in her favor. I get up from the chair and walk over to her.
"I think you'll look much better in it," I concede, letting her win for my favor. Suddenly,
she kisses me, her soft, tender lips pressing against mine, as the bangs of her hair lightly
caresses my cheek. I eagerly yield to her, forgetting everything else in the world. “ So if I say
that you look better than me in lingerie, will you try that on for me, too?" I kid, playing off her
kiss like it was an insignificant moment, though, it truly was the most significant moment of my
life.
"Haha. You're lucky you got lip action, hon. Keep pressing your luck and we'll see if you
get any more!" Her warning puts me in my place.
Emilie finishes putting on the last dress, not finding the fit copacetic. She decides not to
try on any of the matching accessories, including the white gold mariner bracelet that peaked
her interest earlier. Emilie doesn't know it, but she just saved my life, as any extravagant
purchases on Daddy's credit card would surely mean my death.
We leave the store and head upstairs to the food court, which is comprised of several
restaurants displaying a vast array of Korean food. Emilie orders for the both of us, as I