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The Real Definition Of Comedy
My first serious girlfriend came into my life when I was 18 years old. Her name was Michelle, she was a mess, and in retrospect, I didn't care about her at all. However, the circumstances surrounding us as a couple are entertaining if nothing else.
I'm a Catholic. Michelle was Jewish, which was not, nor is not an issue for me. In fact, a majority of the women that I've dated have been Jewish. There's no real reason behind that.
The three months that Michelle and I spent together were relatively uneventful, and for the most part, I was completely miserable. But for the first time in my life, I was regularly making out with a girl, so I wasn't really in any position to complain.
The real monkey wrench in our relationship came a few into it when I first met her parents.
Perhaps I should give you some background. My name is Haas, of the clan originally from Forbach, a village in Baden-Württemberg, in the southeast of Germany. I'm over six-feet tall, and have blonde hair and electric (other people's word, not mine) blue eyes. In essence, I look like the Aryan poster child.
Michelle's father, a concentration camp survivor, took one look at me standing in front of him, and nearly had a stroke. I later found out that I looked like a guard at whatever the hell camp he had been in as a child.
So rather than give me a fair shake, and get to know me, I was labeled undateable at that very moment. For that reason, among others, Michelle and I didn't last too much longer.
Which was ok with me, because I ended up going to the prom with a girl who was exponentially hotter than Michelle anyway. And meeting another future girlfriend, Rebecca.
And what an experience that turned out to be.
I'm a Catholic. Michelle was Jewish, which was not, nor is not an issue for me. In fact, a majority of the women that I've dated have been Jewish. There's no real reason behind that.
The three months that Michelle and I spent together were relatively uneventful, and for the most part, I was completely miserable. But for the first time in my life, I was regularly making out with a girl, so I wasn't really in any position to complain.
The real monkey wrench in our relationship came a few into it when I first met her parents.
Perhaps I should give you some background. My name is Haas, of the clan originally from Forbach, a village in Baden-Württemberg, in the southeast of Germany. I'm over six-feet tall, and have blonde hair and electric (other people's word, not mine) blue eyes. In essence, I look like the Aryan poster child.
Michelle's father, a concentration camp survivor, took one look at me standing in front of him, and nearly had a stroke. I later found out that I looked like a guard at whatever the hell camp he had been in as a child.
So rather than give me a fair shake, and get to know me, I was labeled undateable at that very moment. For that reason, among others, Michelle and I didn't last too much longer.
Which was ok with me, because I ended up going to the prom with a girl who was exponentially hotter than Michelle anyway. And meeting another future girlfriend, Rebecca.
And what an experience that turned out to be.
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