Not too many white people visit the Philippines. At least, not too many people leave white.
Most humans have a skin tone that’ll either tan or turn red when under the Filipino sun, which I have heard is actually the same sun as we have in the United States. I also heard I could do anything I set my mind to so I’m not quite convinced. My skin, on the other hand, stays a colorless hue. It’s great for reminding people to buy eggs.
This time around whilst in the Philippines I went to more parts where they aren’t as accustomed to the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man walking around. Caucasians are rare and when they saw me there were a few things the Filipinos told me I looked like:
1) “The singer from Coldplay. You know, Gwyneth Paltrow’s ex-husband.”
Apparently I look like Chris Martin.
It’s not a bad thing to get called. I mean, he is famous and they don’t let ugly people get famous. That’s like rule one of the Illuminati who control the world. If I’m going to look like a celebrity I would definitely want it to be one people cannot identify by name. You know you’re famous when people know what you did and who you impregnated yet they cannot remember your name.
I was told I look 25. Many people were surprised to see Jenny had a fiancé who has about two memories from the 1980s and who hardly recalls the day Amish Paradise was released.
For those keeping score I’m actually 28-years-young. Typically whenever a Filipino woman finds an American husband he’ll be much older. He’ll have several memories from each year in the 1980s and have actually been a part of the recording staff for Amish Paradise. In other words, Weird Al Yankovic is the ideal age of marrying a Filipino girl.
Nevertheless, I’m flattered nobody noticed my thinning hair and was able to believe I could pass as 25.
3) “A vampire”
Sometimes when Jenny translates things to me I wonder if she makes them funnier than they actually were. Apparently to my very own future brother-in-law there’s a question as to whether or not I can go into the sunlight or consume garlic.
Along with asking if I was a vampire, there was a follow-up regarding the status of my blood and whether or not I had any. Perhaps this was less of a joke and more one of concern:
“Does he have any blood? If not, he might be hungry. Lemme go grab him some!”
I’m not ruling it out.
Before this I was also told I look bigger in person. Since I am a circus animal, I blushed.
Then there’s the one thing nobody told me I looked like, but everybody knows I did: awkward.
It’s like a drop of glue splattered onto this lovely photo and wrecked everything.
I swear, I usually blend in better. They didn’t call me “The Chameleon” in high school just because I was slimy.
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