I am sick, tired and just want to go to sleep. All of a sudden my mobile rings, it’s James. He’s on his way and is rather insistent that I get dressed and come out for a few drinks down at the local pub. According to him it’s “poppin’ off and everyone is there”. Yay. So I slug down some more cough medicine put on some clothes and rub a bit of cream into my hair, and we are off. Now the Cottage is the type of pub that most would call a dive. I think that is a gross overstatement. It is smelly, old, and filled with creepy old white men. However it is at the epicenter of town and provides a good place for you to go if your looking for cheap drinks, greasy food, and all of your old high school friends. It seems that every year around this time when kids are migrating back home from college or lives in other cities, they inevitably convene at the cottage.


As I finish up the last drag on my cigarette and reluctantly sloth myself up the stairs and through the front door I am greeted with the warm shouts of “Hey there he is, good of you to show up buddy.” The place is packed which is somewhat of an aberration, however I am to find out that it is the unofficial class reunion of 2004. Swarms of younger semi-familiar faces surround me. I am relatively comfortable seeing that most of my closest friends are there so at least I will have some people to talk to. As I make my rounds giving hand shakes and high fives, taking in the delighted faces of people who are a bit too much on this piss and kids who are just in the holiday spirit I notice an unfamiliar face. Across the room my stare is instantly fixed on a rather striking girl. The fact that she is quite beautiful aside the most perplexing thing about this girl is that she is Asian. Do my eyes deceive me, another Asian person in my pub. The pub where I am always the only minority. This is quite odd I must say, I feel compelled to talk to her. To ask her where she came up with the loony idea to upset the balance in my white little world. Honestly the audacity of it all. This comes all in jest of course. I am very pleased to see one of my own in this painfully monotoned environment. Thoughts are racing through my head as I work up the courage to approach her. I wonder if she is like me. If she is adopted, if she detests being surrounded by a sea of unwelcoming faces, if she wishes she were anywhere but here. Before I do finally approach her I do a bit of sleuthing. I ask friends and acquaintances about her. I have always felt that when entering new situations it is very important to be well informed on what you are getting into. Maybe it was the sources of the information or maybe it was the lack of consistency and indifference of the answers I received, but what I was hearing lead me to believe she was everything I had hoped she would not be. From what I had gathered she was typical of what you find of KAD’s in these parts. She was wild, liked to get on the piss, and loved to fuck with white boys. But despite all of this I figured I should find out on my own this truth on the mystery girl. The following conversation ensued.

Me: Hello I’m Tim it’s a pleasure to meet you.

Silly KAD: Hi I noticed you all night I’m glad you finally came over and introduced yourself.

Me: Yeah so am I.

Silly KAD: So I’m Korean and adopted, what about you?

Me: Yeah as am I.

Silly KAD: Wow that’s amazing what are the odds.(yeah right what are the odds?) Whats your plane date?

Me: Plane date?

Silly KAD: Yeah plane date. You know the day your parents got you from the plane. The day you get all the gifts and stuff. It’s like a holiday to celebrate the day you came off the plane.

Me: (Quite bewildered not to mention disgusted at this point) Ummm yeah I don’t know my “plane date”. That’s not really something I would celebrate.

Silly KAD: (with a puzzled and uncomfortable look) Oh, well mine is blah blah blah.



She catches a nasty look from her unassuming white boyfriend and quickly scampers off. I can understand his concern that the remedy to his yellow fever is talking to a person who potentially may open her eyes to the error of her ways. But he has nothing to worry about. At her age she is already lost to the result of years of lies and burial of the truth. It was at this point I realized again how utterly alone I was in the pub(and this town). I had a feeling she wasn’t going to be the type of KAD I could open up with and swap stories about adoption and what it means to be a KAD. I mean honestly “plane date” what a pile of shit. As if I am to throw up my hands and rejoice about the day I was received off a plane like some package being delivered from UPS. Do I celebrate the days that a man in tiny brown shorts drops off my latest purchase from the internets. No. So to trivialize my (our) arrival to this country, to this life of misconstrued identity, is absurd.


I went over to James ordered a couple of shot of whiskey and toasted to our friendship. The nice thing about James is that he embraces his mixed heritage. And that was just the reprieve I needed after another typical KAD encounter.


Adios Mr. Jamison