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Alright, I've been holding back from posting these thoughts for a while, but I just can't keep it a secret any longer. My parents came to visit me from rural Minnesota, and let me tell you, it never gets any easier.
The incesant questions (why is that guy and his buddy holding hands? do you think that homeless guy is a murderer? how do you buy groceries if there are no parking lots?) tend to wear on me as the days go on.
My parents as sweet as they are, have a tendancy to offend others with their comments. One particular example took place at frat boy bar on a Saturday night. I assure you we went there against my will, as I knew what was about to ensue:
Background: WE were are Shanghai Kelley's when a theme party (Golf Pros, Tennis Hos) filtered into the bar.
Dad: Why are those guys dressed gay? (he pauses, realizing his error in speech) Eh, I mean... why are they dressed like that?
Me: Oh they are dressed up for theme thing. It's called GOlf Pros Tennis Hos
Dad: Tennis WHAT???
Me; HOS
(Meanwhile, young unsuspecting 20 something walks by in a tennis skirt and visor)
Dad: Hey!! I know what you are -- You're a HO!!! (He says it with wide grin thinking he is bonding with the youngsters at the bar -- and that he's hip enough to know their gig)
Girl: Politely smiles.
Girl's Drunk and Aggressive Friend: WHAT DID YOU SAY?!?!?!
Me: No no no. It's ok, really, he's from Minnesota.
Girl and Girl's Drunk and Aggressive Friend: Look at eachother, nod, then head into the bathroom.
Must I really share any more stories to further illustrate my point?
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