How To Date A White Bitch (Advice For The Non-White Dude)

by Neel Shah

Neel Shah

In her Huffington Post primer “How to Date an Indian (Advice for a Non-Indian),” Andrea Miller, the CEO of trusted relationship advice website YourTango, lays out a multitude of reasons as to why Indian folks-”innately gracious, social creatures”-make perfect spouses. Miller, you see, is married to a perfect hunk of brown male straight out of New Dehli, which thus gives her “pretty good perspective on the desirability of the people from the world’s largest democracy-and how to woo them.”

As an Indian person myself-one who has had the misfortune of stepping foot on the wretched land mass known as the Subcontinent on more than one occasion-I couldn’t help but chuckle. Has Miller ever interacted with an Indian before? We are fucking terrible. Our females tend to have mustaches. Many males, sadly, are endowed with comically small penises. (Hopefully Sanjay, Miller’s husband, is the exception!) Both genders tend to sweat profusely, and emit a most unpleasant odor. It was almost as if Miller hadn’t met more than, oh, a few dozen of the more than 1 billion Indians on this planet before writing her article!

No, as every Indian knows, we’re hardly the cream of the dating crop. I’ll tell you who is, though: White bitches.

I know what you’re thinking: White bitches-so rare. So exotic! Where/how can you snag one yourself, for experimental love-making purposes? Luckily, I have more than a decade of experience interacting with these pasty unicorns, and am somewhat of an expert on the subject. Allow me, for a moment, to expound on the peculiar wants and desires of white bitches-and in turn enlighten you, fellow brown man, on how you can capture one of your own.

This is very important. After a couple of white wine spritzers, you basically have to taze white bitches to keep ’em from jumping you in public. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever NOT sexed a sexy white bitch after plying her with alcohol. As you’re getting hammered, remember to regale her with stories about how back in India you drink “fermented coconut juice served by tiny monkey waiters riding elephants,” too. White bitches love that shit. (Note: Some white bitches only drink vodka sodas because they’re worried about “getting fat,” even though they’ll get drunk and proceed to wolf down like three slices of pepperoni pizza as if they’re storing up for hibernation. White bitches are often dumb.)

Pack a picnic basket with some grapes and crackers (LOL) and Brie and go to Central Park or the Cloisters or some shit. White bitches love eating stupid foods like Brie in stupid places like Central Park. Do you know how many vanilla wafers I’ve banged at the Cloisters? A lot. Obviously it sucks up there but it’s totally worth it. “He’s so great!” she’ll tell her stupid white friends at some stupid brunch. “He took me to the CLOISTERS and told me about the delicious rotis his tiny Indian grandmother used to make with her tiny hands.” The other white bitches will be impressed, which means you can probably sleep with them too, because most white bitches secretly hate their friends and enjoy spiting them.

White bitches are superficial as shit. Buy them flowers or chocolates or designer handbags and you will totally get laid. White bitches are basically contractually obligated to give you a handjob if you spend more than $50 on a present, so make sure you “accidentally” leave the price tag on so they know just how much money you spent. When she sees the tag, sigh and sound embarrassed because “$50 could provide six months worth of food and malaria medicine for the village where my cousins Mukesh and Vijay live.” Add that you wish you could call them but they don’t have electricity there, which breaks your heart, but you still pray to multiple deities every day for their well-being. If you actually spent less than $50, just switch the price tag. At this point, most white bitches will be so ready to bone you they won’t even notice your trickery.

Oh, God, telling a white bitch you love her is basically cheating. There isn’t anything on the planet white bitches want more than to get married before they turn 30, at which point they basically morph into hideous spinsters. If you tell a white bitch you love her, she will do anything you say, forever, the end. If she’s over 30, you don’t even need to tell her you love her. Just send her the occasional SMS message and maybe take her out in public a few times and she is YOURS.

There you have it, brown dudes. Go forth and conquer!

As for all you white ladies out there: Mai tumse pyar karta hoo. I’m single. Call me.

Neel Shah actually smells pretty great.