[9/15/2002 2:00:49 AM | Andy Kovacs]
A couple of weeks ago, Tiff and I had driven to my parents' house on a Saturday morning. On the way I stopped at a rest station on the New Jersey Turnpike because I needed some coffee and to, well, "rest" for a moment.

I went to use the facilities, which were, in true turnpike rest station fashion, horrendously dirty. The urinals were either all occupied or situated next to a particularly grimy gentleman so I went to pee in one of the stalls. On the wall, the following piece of poetry was written:

Those who write on bathroom walls
Roll their sh!t in little balls.
Those who read those words of wit
Eat those little balls of sh!t

I was fairly amused. I washed up and upon emerging from the restroom, I noticed something that had escaped me countless times before: almost all the patrons were of Asian descent.

Sure, there were some people of other ethnicity, but the overwhelming majority of patrons were asian. Then I started to get this odd sort of feeling that all the asians were casting a scrutinizing eye my way, probably because I wasn't carrying a camera and urging some other asians to stand in front of the Burger King sign so I could take their picture. I think they were suspicious. Either that or they were annoyed that I wasn't taking their picture.

I left in a hurry and started back on my way to my parents' house. The weekend was fun but soon enough it was Sunday evening and time to go home. I had to stop at another rest area on the way home to wake up a bit, but also because I wanted to see if what I had witnessed the day before still held true. Again, almost all the patrons were asian.

What is going on here?, I asked myself.

Then I recalled that in China it is illegal to have more than one child. Therefore when a woman finds that she is pregnant with a second child, she will immigrate to this country via Ellis Island. That explains the number of asians in New York and New Jersey.

But why do they congregate at the turnpike rest areas and why was I never invited?

It then dawned on me that I don't like other asian people with the exception of my sister, and my friends Kelly, Lenny, Brian, and, Chisu, and, the answer to the first part of the question is quite simple: everybody knows that, scribbled on the inside of every door of every stall in womens' restrooms throughout China is the following poem:

If you want one million kids
Or as many as you like,
Join the Asian-Singles scene
On the New Jersey Turnpike.