Monday, January 10, 2011

Thing 248 Meet the Parents (Fake Identity)

In retrospect, putting the words "fake identity" into a story about meeting parents does seem a little creepy and unusual. It's one of them Things that was supposed to be one Thing but turned into another Thing.

It was supposed to be a day to put on a funny accent and try it on in front of strangers. You know you've always wanted to do it. I had little back stories for everyone (yes, I had multiple fake identities) and I was going to bring those personalities into shops and cafes and see if I could bluff it. Really lay it on thick.

I got to do that once. Only once. For a very clearly skeptical young man in a petrol station. His skepticism being well founded in the fact that my Scottish accent which started strong turned into Mrs Doubtfire after about three minutes.

The reason Mr Earl Jacobs, who's an American tracing his ancestry in Ireland couldn't make an appearance was pure fear and utter nervousness...

Myself and The Thief are not going out that long, and I've never met her parents before. How's that for a new Thing for the day? Absolutely brick myself for a whole day. The Thief asked me why I was nervous. I like to think I've got good reason...

I'm the guy who drank his own pee. Yep. I'm the guy who on national radio got his private bits waxed. That's me. The chap who went to the set of a porno. And they knew all about The Project.

No one enjoys that first meeting, and only horrible friends (I'm talking to you Fahy) and a girlfriend with a mean streak would make it even more difficult just for fun.

There are some things that I'm acutely aware of in myself - firstly; I have the fashion sense of someone who was frozen in the mid 90's. I'm aware of this. I dress for comfort, not style. My poor mother is blue in the face from giving out about my clothes, and it's an endless source of amusement to God Boy (who really shouldn't be throwing stones at me, the man looks like a bum).

Secondly; I don't have what you call a "normal" sense of humour. I'm patently unable to tell a joke. Thorny Wire cracks jokes all the time at his bar, people are in stitches laughing. I take those same jokes to work and tell the lads in there. The lads in work make that noise that indicates that they're trying not to be rude by throwing things at me. I also laugh at inappropriate things that others don't find funny.

Thirdly; I'm the guy that drank his own pee.

I know I've already covered that one, but in terms of making an impression on someone, that one is definitely setting me back twice as far as the first two.

It's a long old drive from my place to The Thief's. I briefly toyed with the idea of trying one of my new personalities on when I got there, until common sense crushed that idea brutally and mentally slapped me in the brain for even considering it.

The thing about this kind of stuff though, is that it's never as bad as you think it's going to be. Lovely people really. And I didn't laugh inappropriately or sweat excessively either.

I was so chuffed that I decided to try on my Scottish accent in the petrol station on the way home. Goes to show that no matter how good some things go, if you sound like Mrs Doubtfire, all the confidence in the world isn't going to convince the guy at the checkout that your surname is McCloud.

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