I met Lu one day while I was working at Disney. I was performing as Tigger, while he was performing as Pooh. Since it was my first time in the costume, my autographs looked like ransom notes, and it took me a ridiculous amount of time to both put on the costume, as well as take it off in between sets. As a result, I spent a good portion of that day chainsmoking bitterly outside and watching a grainy VHS copy of Lady and the Tramp that was playing in the breakroom. Lu and I didn't speak much during our shift - I could tell he was gay, but had little interest in interacting, due to the fact that he wasn't attractive in the least. He was short - probably around 5'3. While being that height is perfectly fine, I knew in my heart that it would be my duty as a boyfriend to carry him on my shoulders after he got sleepy or when watching parades, and that was something I was just not prepared to do. I was a little surprised that I couldn't look past the height issue, because I have always had a very strong affinity for Asian guys. I spent five years of my life learning Japanese, just so I could go to Tokyo and sexually reenact Godzilla .After our shift was done, we chatted a bit while walking back to costuming. He seemed nice enough, and even offered to give me a ride home, since I had taken a bus to work. I politely declined, because I make it a rule to never get in a car with another gay man unless it is traveling to Taco Bell, or stationary with a large back seat. Later that night, I had a lot of vodka and got online to make awkward sexual advances to old high school friends via Facebook chat. This had become a hobby of mine for whenever I needed a good laugh, which later led to about 100 people blocking me. When I got online, however, I had a friend request from Lu. It's quite common for performers to add each other after a single shift, so I accepted and we messaged back and forth for a bit. In my drunken stupidity, I agreed to go out to one of the parks with him later that week. We arrived at the park around 7PM, and it was having Extra Magic Hours til 1AM. While waiting in line for a ride, I asked him how he knew I was gay. "I could just tell," he said.I had reservations about believing him, just because it's so hard for people to pick up on my fondness for the penis. I decided he had simply heard about me, seeing as how I was slowly working my way through every guy on Disney's payroll. "To be honest, though, I didn't find you attractive at first. It was just your personality," he followed up with. I was outraged; not only was this a clearly rude thing to say, it was also my clearly rude thing. I only agreed to go out with him due to being inebriated and a little horny. I should have walked away right here, but it was basically the first time someone had told me that they simply weren't attracted to me, and I had a duty as a self-proclaimed scholar to find out why. The next "date" we went on (and I use that term loosely, just because it's hard to have a real date with someone who could have easily been a character in The Borrowers) was in downtown Orlando. He wanted to go Christmas shopping for his family, and somehow thought it would be fun for me to come along. There have only been a few times when I fantasized about throwing myself in front of a moving car, and this was quickly becoming one of those times. I can't even remember how long we walked around trying to find gifts for family members who obviously have learned to expect complete shit from him, come the holidays. For the last gift, he was looking at a picture frame with Mickey's logo on the sides."What if I put pictures of me in-costume in the frame, and gave it to my mom?" "Do you really think that's a good idea?" I asked. "Wouldn't you like that as a gift, if you were her?" "No, Lu. No I would not. I would probably throw the pictures out and regift the frame." He thought I was joking, and laughed embarrassingly loud while telling me how glad he was for bringing me along. That made one of us.Every time we hung out, I started to hate him more and more. He was immature, a little rude, and seemed to be shrinking in height. This was obviously going to be a disaster, and I needed to find a way out quick. I couldn't handle another date that involved him singing along to The Muppets soundtrack while molesting my knee with his little Vienna sausage fingers. I was trying to find a way to break it off gently, but for some reason, I had sympathy for this loser. I googled "bad neighborhoods in Orlando" after work one day, but walking away without a scratch while he's gang-banged, stabbed, and then hidden away in a shoebox seemed a little unlikely. The thing that upset me the most about him was when we went out for Chinese food one night, and I had to show him how to use chopsticks. I lost my appetite immediately after watching his baby fingers clumsily attempt to pick up sesame chicken with utensils he found alien. He obviously had no respect for his heritage, or the stereotypes that followed it. How would I ever be able to roleplay an adult version of Memoirs of a Geisha with him? Our final date was at a beach at one of Disney's resorts. We watched the nightly fireworks from a hammock, which he thought was sweet. Any romanticism was quickly lost on me, as I worried about his infant body slipping through the rope holes in the hammock. He wanted to make out a little bit, which I decided to try. I'm always curious how good of a kisser some people are, and am usually willing to make out with any person once, given they have all their teeth and didn't just eat a big mac. I learned the last part the hard way. "Do you want to go back to the car?" he asked me after a few minutes of being soaked in his saliva, which bared a striking similarity to Miso soup. I took this as an invitation to get the hell out of there, so I led the way to the parking lot with him in a full-on sprint behind me to keep up. My heart sunk when he climbed into the back seat of his Jeep, though. Of course, this was after three attempts to hoist himself up into the vehicle. I followed, desperately looking around the empty parking lot for any sharp object that I could jab into my throat and/or stomach. I considered praying to Buddha to save me, but thought that might be in bad taste. Whoever designed his shirts should be put to death, because as soon as Lu removed it, his rogue stomach made its debut. I knew he was a little heavy - but this thing could have caused a solar eclipse. His sushi rolls completely covered his penis, which I thought would automatically set me free from touching it. I was wrong, however, and tried to keep my dinner down while his hand guided mine onto the Wonton that rested under his blob of a stomach. Apparently, his fingers weren't the tiniest thing on his body. My body either blacked out or went into shock, because the next thing I knew, I was in my apartment showering the memories off me. Since I had little to no dignity left, I decided the best course of action for me to take was to completely cut out Lu. I blocked him on facebook, refused to text him back, and cleared the Japanese porn sites from my browser history. For the next week, I thought I was a free man. I laughed at the desperate text messages he sent me, which mainly revolved around how he thought my phone was broken, and that I still wanted to see him. When he still didn't hear from me, he must have finally gotten the message. But, just like gas station enchiladas, he came a'callin' during the worst of times. I was in my apartment, ironically with another guy, when I heard a knock on the door. I decided to ignore it, because I was in the middle of impressing my new man with my knowledge of The Golden Girls quotes. When the knocking continued, however, I got up off the couch to see just what asshole was interrupting my sexy tribute to Bea Arthur. I glanced out the peephole, but saw nothing. For a second, I thought maybe it was just those damn youths playing a prank - but then remembered I was in a gated apartment complex with security guards at the entrance. And then it dawned on me: who is tiny enough to not be seen through the peephole?Suddenly, I got a text message from Lu reading "Open the door." Not only had Beef and Broccoli heard me inside my apartment, he had also somehow managed to sneak his way into my complex. This was particularly alarming, because I had never brought him back to my place. How he found out where I lived still puzzles me to this day, and I spend many nights lying awake trying to figure it out. I'm currently investigating an intricate conspiracy theory that has to do with a Shih Tzu and fortune cookies, and am constantly referring to myself as "Nancy Drew with a Penis."I had no idea what to do, since revealing an Asian stalker might be a little too much for the first date. At first, I thought he might just go away, but soon disbanded that hope after his continued knocking at the door. If he had been human-sized, I would have opened the door and challenged him to a martial arts fight. I had just re-watched Kill Bill and was ready for action. But since I no longer fought children, I decided to just text back. "I'm calling security, dickhead." was all I said. This seemed to get the message across, since the knocking and texts stopped. Thankfully, I never saw Lu again, even though we both worked at Disney. To this day, I can't look at a California Roll without being reminded of him and his little penis.