"Hey, is that a porno magazine? Can I check it out?" A detainee in his early fifties asks when he sees the summer the issue of Hyphen Magazine
lying on my bed.
"No. It's an Asian American magazine," I answer with disgust. I don't even know the dude. He walks by my cell, sees the cover of Hyphen
, where an Asian woman leans over tattooing a bare back and assumes it's sexual. Therefore, it must be a porno magazine.
"Are you Vietnamese?" He changes the subject since I don't make any move to show him the magazine.
"No." I am shooting daggers at him with my eyes.
"You look like a Vietnamese," he continues without thinking.
"That's what happens when you assume." I don't feel like talking to this dude anymore.
"Oh. I'm Iranian. Do you mind telling me where you're from?" He's not getting the hint.
"I'm from China." I am done talking to the dude.
"Wow, your English is very good. You don't have the Asian accent too much." He is ignorantly surprised.
"Thank you. Have a nice day." I don't want to be too rude.