Foster, a Canadian who is Into Asians

Foster, woke up at the bottom of his stairs. He felt rather weak but managed to get himself to his kitchen. He popped some medicine to help with his pounding head. He took a bottle of liquor out of the fridge and removed the cap. This hadn’t been the first time he slept walked. However this was the first time he had taken such a tumble. After a few sips he poured the rest of the drink out “Tastes like crap, knew I shouldn’t have left the case out of the fridge.”

The pounding in Foster’s head had dimmed down after about half an hour of just sitting there. Then he began to recall a dream he had. It said something about cliches and stereotypes he couldn’t fully understand. He held disdain for most other people however. He hated his own generation as well as most of the ones that proceeded him. He was 26 and had never had a girlfriend. His best friend was a year younger and had been with countless women. Foster had a thing for Asian women but they never seemed to have a thing for him. Then again he never tried.

Foster kicked around the bucket thinking about the dream. He was trying to remember specifics. Then the part of just thinking would make it happen came to his mind. He thought about it for a bit and decided he would test it somewhere. What was the worst that could happen his own brain scrutinizes him?