I had the following conversation TWICE in a single night:
Stranger coming up to me: Hi, where are you from?
Me: Originally, I'm from Beijing.
Stranger. Oh. Were you born there?
Stranger: So are you chinese?
Occam's razor, people!
Next time, I'm going to say, "No, I'm from the little-known town of Beijing, South Korea."
Omst and I arrived to find Christina in the back of the bar, with a cluster of guys. As soon as we approached, an Asian man with spiky hair left the cluster and struck up a conversation with me.
We chatted. The guy wobbled from drunkenness. He kept giving me high-fives. He told me that he's Korean, and a doctor who splits his time between teaching and research. He seemed distracted. After about ten minutes, the conversation was getting repetitive, and I politely excused myself.
When I returned to my friends:
Omst: Wow, that guy was like a hawk.
Christina: Niniane, why did you spend so long talking to a guy who's getting married tomorrow?
Me: Is he? He didn't mention it to me.
Christina: Yeah, his friend told me.
Me: He's completely drunk. Is this his bachelor party?
Christina: No, they're just having drinks together, after the rehearsal dinner.
Omst: It makes sense that he's drunk. He's getting married tomorrow.
Me: So he should get trashed and go to his own wedding with a hangover?
Omst: He's probably thinking to himself, "Fuck! I'm getting married tomorrow!" And it's not just "Fuck!" ... It's like "Fuck! Shit! Fuck! I'm getting married!"
Me: Sounds great for his bride.
Twenty minutes later, Christina came back to us after chatting with other guys in the group.
Christina: That guy who's getting married has only known his girlfriend for six months. She got pregnant. That's why they're getting married. They just planned it three weeks ago.
Christina: And she's a doctor too! You'd think they would have prevented this.
Clearly, having the groom drink himself into a desperate stupor is somehow better than an abortion.