¡Ask a Mexican! the Dating Gain
Dear Mexican: Why do so many of my peers assume I must have low self-esteem just because I’m dating a Mexican guy? I finally found someone with my same values and who treats me way better than any gringo I ever dated. The same women who complain about “sleazy” Mexican men go to France and giggle about “how flirtatious” French men are. Fucking racists!
Dear Cute Little Gabacha: A couple of years ago, I dated a Vietnamese chica caliente whose only sins were that she studied Spanish in Guatemala and had racist parents. Remember that scene in Annie Hall where the bigoted grandmother of Woody Allen’s girlfriend imagined the nebbish as a Hasidic Jew? Substitute a sombrero for the shtreimel, and that was yo in the eyes of those damn chinitos. Despite my bachelor’s degree, full-time job and lack of a mustache, my gal’s parents still disapproved of our relationship because I was Mexican — no other reason. The girl and I broke up after about a year because she was a two-timing puta, but that’s a different cuento. The point of this story is to say “Gracias” for noting how stupid non-Mexicans can become once a wab starts dating someone they know. Not to get all Abby in this column, but por favor, people: Judge a Mexican man by his accomplishments, not by how dark his skin is or his ability to grow a mustache within the hour. Too many good guys I know get burned this way (write in with your horror stories, cabrones!) and drown their sorrows in Herradura as a result. Who says Mexican men aren’t pussies?
And while we’re at it, Chulita, may God rain churros upon your days for further ridiculing the hypocrisy of your fellow gabachas. Look, chicas: Spare me your questions/rants about Mexican men ogling/whistling at/courting you. As Chulita correctly points out, isn’t it interesting how sexual harassment is interpreted as flirting when the horny man is some hot hombre and not a day laborer? I’m not excusing their actions — chivalry is bueno — but grabbing your nuts and catcalling chicks isn’t a Mexican trait; it’s a huevos thing. Ask Jack Nicholson if you don’t believe me.
Dear Mexican: I’ve been reading your articles for a while now and I would like to know how you are able to answer all the questions you receive so intelligently. Sometimes, I think you go above and beyond just to show us how smart you are. Which is cool, but I don’t know if anyone can relate to you, because you seem to put yourself above us other Latinos and reply back as if we’re stupid.
—No Jealousy Here
Dear Wab: Shakespeare once wrote, “Brevity is the soul of wit.”
¡ASK A MEXICAN CONTEST! Want a free, autographed copy of my book? Send a picture to firstname.lastname@example.org of yourself or an amigo reading the Mexican while standing outside the local Mexican consulate or embassy. One winner per location only, so the first picture from each region gets the book. Gracias, gente of Albuquerque; Houston; Portland, Oregon; Dallas; Miami; Las Vegas; San Diego; Phoenix; Prague; Paris and Toulouse, France; Kansas City; Sacramento; Oxnard; Yuma; Salt Lake City; San Antonio; and Tulsa for sending photos. Everyone else: You’re going to let fucking Frenchmen in Toulouse beat you? Send your photos — ¡ándale, ándale!
HALF-BREED ALERT! The Mexican is still receiving nicknames from folks who are half-Mexican, half–something else. Visit laweekly.com, click on “Half-Breed Edición,” and check out the latest entries!
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