-Fall 2005: A friend and I were at a Que house party standing near the doorway trying to catch our breathe and get a breeze from the open door. A member of the frat walked past me and started to dance with me. I just stood there and looked at him, because clearly I was tired and hot. He tried to grab my hands and dance. Again, I resisted. He dropped my hands, shook his head and muttered, "Being a Que don't mean NOTHING these days."
-Spring 2007: I am waiting in the doctor's office with a pounding headache, body aches and a sore throat, among other ailments. An older Vietnamese woman is sitting across from me with her young grandson, furiously speaking Vietnamese on her cell phone. Her grandson is terrorizing the office, climbing on chairs, throwing toy cars over to the receptionist's station and yelling at everyone (including shouting "MOTHERFOOKER" at his grandmother). Except for the occasional slap to his butt, his grandma ignores him. After a particularly loud and annoying outburst from the boy, she turns to me and asks, "HELP ME! Make him shut up!"
-A few hours ago: This is what happens when you have a "glamourous" job in Fashion, PR or Entertainment. You end up racing behind a gorgeous celebrity, trying to fix her dress.
<----Click image to enlarge, and take a look at all the people following her. See how many you recognize from her VH1 Driven special...