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Wednesday, 21 September 2011

How Not To Make An Impression On The In-Laws

See that guy giving me the bunny ears?  That's my boyfriend and since I kind of like him, I want his parents to kind of like me.  This is a story of how to make that not happen.  Not. at. all.

We had been dating for a few months but were afraid to get serious because I'm a stupid Canadian and he's a smelly Englishman.  Eventually, though, he took the plunge and brought me up to Leeds to meet his dad.  Big step!  I was understandably nervous but I thought with my abundance of natural charm and tendency to drink too much wine with dinner I'll be just fine.  I was wrong.  I made polite small talk with his dad and his dad's wife, let's call her Linda.  Because her name is Linda, so that seems reasonable.  Anyhow, I was busy charming the pants off Dad and Linda at dinner, and Linda's kids and grand kids for extra measure.  Especially the grand kids as we had very similar taste in Disney movies.  

We were sat around the table discussing intellectual topics and I was using big words to show them how smart their son's new girlfriend is when someone said: "So many German soldiers died in the first world war, and most of them were Jewish."  Inside I thought EUREKA!  Perfect set up for one of my hilarious jokes, of which I have many.  Enter Lisa: "Well, most of them were going to die know.....Hitlerrrrr!"  To truly get the idea of how truly stupid I am you must understand that I said "Hitler" in an obnoxious, sing songy voice.  Damn all that red wine.  Nobody laughed as hard as I did, but I figured maybe my humor was too advanced for these neanderthals.  We carried on chatting through the rest of dinner with me completely oblivious to how embarrassed I should have been.

After dinner, I popped outside for a cigarette and Ben joined me.  
"That was quite the joke about Hitler, honey"
"Hah, I know.  I'm hilarious, your family is going to love me."
"Lisa...they're Jewish."

Oh. My. God.  What have I done.  My boyfriends parents think I'm racist!  I've known them for less than twelve hours and I've made a mockery of one of the worst injustices in human history.  I couldn't exactly go, "Linda, I'm so sorry I sang Hitler in your face.  You see, I didn't know you were Jewish."  Nope, there is no recovering from that.  Thank god they live far away.

I won't even go into the time I waved pork scratchings in a Jewish mans face while exclaiming "Try them!  They're pig skin!"  


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