I remember attending a party once, where I met someone who was so offensive, I had to restrain myself from hurting him with the very pointy-toed boots I had chosen to wear on that grey, frozen day. As soon as "offensive" had ascertained that I was desi, his eyes lit up and he looked at me mischievously.
“I know a lot of Indians…” he said proudly. “That’s why I can talk like this!”
He had affected his best attempt at what can only be termed “Apu: the accent as done by a white boy”. He punctuated his declaration by laughing uproariously at his own “talent”. I looked at him with malicious intent.
“That’s not funny. At all. And I would prefer that you never did that again, around me or any other sentient being, for that matter.”
What he had done thus far was more than enough to merit a vicious front-kick to the nads, but astonishingly, he wasn’t done.
He cocked his head to the side and replied, “But I have to—whenever I go in to a 7-11 if I don’t talk like them, they don’t understand me. Besides, they like it.”
“No, they don’t.”
“Sure they do, I can tell!”
And with that, the troglodyte left me to run off and torment someone who had just walked through the door.
What kind of douche bag is dumb enough to think that you have to speak to someone first-gen with the worst possible imitation of their accent? You’d be amazed.
In thanking a young Indian-American man for the support of his Indian-American group, Sen. Biden touts how Indians are the fastest growing immigrant group in Delaware and says,
“You cannot go into a 7-11 or a Dunkin Donuts without an Indian accent.”