“I can’t say that I was happy about it happening, but I can say I’m better for it.” - Anonymous(about some anonymous shit.)

“Yeah. That wasn’t fun.” - Elon James White (about a 2 hour ordeal that this particular blog entry is going to be about)

So the meeting has occurred.

I’m not the most calm of people. I can say that. I don’t have a problem pointing that out. I get overly excited about various things. So the idea of meeting the parents of ‘The Girl’ had me in a bit of hysterics.

‘Er…Elon, you wanted to meet them.’

I wanted to meet them in theory. That’s not the same as reality folks. In theory, its great to meet the parents. You’ve met them, they’ve met you. There’s a chapter created in the lives of those involved(unless your somebody who just introduces everyone to your parents, which lets be honest people is just a little fucking weird) Your going down the merry road of meetings. You slowly becoming entwined in each others life.

But the reality… Oh the reality is not the same.

‘The Girl’ has received a few phone calls about the meeting. And I’ve heard her responses to it. It goes a little like ‘It was fine. I mean they weren’t overly friendly but they weren’t mean. I’m just upset that they weren’t themselves.’

This is not my response.

Admittingly things started oddly. When they arrived I was standing in ‘The Girls’ room. My shirt was out of my pants, not because of anything inappropriate(what are we 12?), just that I don’t like my shirts tucked in. But I had every intention of tucking my pants in when we went out. I figured I had to look somewhat presentable and not the normal chaotic mess that I normally am. And please note, its not like they arrived and rang the bell. They have keys to the house. KEYS. So they were at the front door like magically. I think I might have been making jokes about they’re arrival when they…um…arrived. And if you don’t know me, I’m pretty fricken loud. If I said something, they heard it.

‘The Girl’ opens the door. I kinda push the bedroom door closed so that I don’t look even worst tucking my shirt into my pants as they’re coming in.

‘Hey Mr. and Mrs. Girl, yeah, just tucking the pants in. Cause, haha, you know.‘

I hear them out in the living room and I’m now paralyzed. I don’t know how to enter the room. I’m in her fricken bedroom. There’s no good way of coming out of this room. And no matter how hard I try, my ability to turn back time just wouldn’t work. It never fricken works.

So ‘The Girl’ Comes to get me, and I come out and I shake hands and I immediately to start to sweat. It was completely involuntary. It was just like my body was like ‘Oh look, we’re uncomfortable, maybe we can make it better by soaking our clothing with salty body water.’ So I immediately run to get paper towels. Which I mean really, had to look great. ‘Oh look, he comes out of our daughters room and he starts dripping sweat.’

Or they were thinking ‘Yeah, definitely not Jewish. And man, he’s really black. We thought she might be kidding. Like an episode of Punk’d. But nope. He’s definitely black.’

Then ‘El Girl’ says she has to finish getting dress. Which leaves me and the parents together. Now when She met my mother I was quiet. It was uncomfortable at first. That was MY mother. She raised me. I don’t know these people from Adam. So I really have nothing to say.

The parents go to sit down. Her mom lays leisurely on the couch and her father takes a chair, turns it backwards and sits in it. I assume he thought this was intimidating. Yeah, a 5′9 150 pound 60 year old dude sitting in a backwards chair scary? Riiiight.

No really. He was right. I was totally freaked out. Sweat kept pouring.

*************

This is long. I’ll finish the rest of this tomorrow.

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