exotica erotica

It strikes me dumb whenever a member of the opposite comments that they like my 'exotic' look. Exotic. Exotic to me, are the girls of Hawaii, of Rio de Janeiro, of Cuba. Exotic to me, are coconut drinks, grass skirts and salsa sauce. Exotic to me, by whatever reason whatsoever, is definitely not me.

Certainly for the guys of Hawaii, there's probably nothing exotic about their girls - after all, it's the same bunch of girls day in and day out. And for a lot of people, 'air kelapa' is what they'd usually buy to pair up with dessert at least once a week from the 'pasar malam'.

Exotic means 'unusual'. What is so unusual about the way I look? You see me... you think, oh Chink. What's so exotic about that then? Is it the pimples? Yea? Cos I'm twenty-four and should have left the pizza face days back in my teens?

It gives me this really strange feeling to be called exotic. Like I'm a flower from some unexplored jungle waiting to be plucked away by some bad, bad man. Now that sounds like a horrible analogy for a cheesy porn movie waiting to happen.

But what can I say when a guy told me that one of the main reasons he wanted to get to know me (and eventually get into my pants) was because of my so-called exotic look?

I don't like the way my nose looks. It doesn't sit straight on my face I think, and I'd rather something that looked a lot more noble, not snout-like.

Anyway, don't laugh just yet. Three people have commented to me that I look a bit like Sammi Cheng. The Honky actress. Weird.