Monte

James and I have been dating now for five months. We’ve had our share of quarrels and arguments, we even came close to breaking up three months into the relationship, but overall the experience has been very positive.

James is the first person I’ve ever had a long-term relationship with. I’ve had other relationships in the past, but this is the one that worked. It’s probably due to all the support I’ve received from my parents. Not only have they been supportive of my relationship with James, but they actually like him too. Yes, they genuinely like him. I always thought that I would be hard pressed to find someone my parents would approve of. My mother, especially. She isn’t too fond of people in general, and her consensus is that nobody but her and her family are good people. She could find fault with Mother Theresa.

One of the usual rules by which she judges my friends by is what they’re parents do for a living. Your mother and father must have respected, professional careers, and their salaries must be no less than $40,000-per-year. Under no circumstances can you live in a trailer (or any house with wheels), and your hair must be of a natural color–no green or blue dye. No piercings or body tattoos, please.

The first boy I dated was during my freshman year of high school. Justin was an intelligent, straight-A student, however, this did not outweigh the fact that his mother cut hair for a living at the local mall.

Fortunately, James was able to pass my mother’s high standards (despite the fact that his mother was recently laid off from her work, although I mentioned none of this to my mother).

My parents have been so supportive that, surprisingly, they invited James over to the family Thanksgiving dinner. Correction: My father invited James to the family Thanksgiving dinner–he later convinced my mother to go along with it.

I was nervous Thanksgiving morning. I wasn’t worried too much about my parents accepting James as much as I was worried about what my grandparents would think. Old people are from a different era. They were around during slavery. I was afraid they might tie poor James up to a tree and declare a lynching. Fortunately, they were very kind towards James, and they didn’t seem at all uncomfortable.

James and I were chatting tonight over the phone (as usual), and he announced to me that he has found yet one more adjective to add to the description of his favorite Starbuck’s drink. His new refreshment-of-choice is a “grande, toffee-nut, latte, non-fat, light whip, extra hot.” He has added the “extra hot” because he claims that the drink tends to get cold rather quickly. Poor guy.