Boss: Well, we know you have money. After all., your last name...
Me: No, I'm not related to him.
Boss: (teasing) You can tell us...
Me: If I was related to him, I wouldn't be working HERE.
Boss: Yeah, that makes sense.
Co-worker: Sure you would...
Me: No... that family has enough pull to get me a teaching position there. Sadly, my father's people are drunken white trash from New Jersey.
Co: You shouldn't call anyone trash.
Me: You're not related to them.
Co: Besides, they can't all be drunks...
Me: Man, you've lived a sheltered life.
Me: Though, in this case, you're right. They weren't all drunks. My Uncle John was a heroin addict. Because someone has to keep things fresh.
Co: That's probably the coldest thing I've ever heard someone say...
Me: These are people who, after my father's death, walked out* my mother and the four of us. I don't really even consider them family. They're more "people I have the misfortune of sharing genetic traits with."
Me: They abandoned us when my mom was thirty, and we were eight, seven, six, and three. I will call those assholes whatever I Goddamned well please.
After an awkward silence, we started discussing plans for an upcoming conference.
*This is a massive understatement. Kitty, my father's mother, basically stalked us for about a year. Among other things.
This is for the topic Sang Froid, for LJ Idol. I decided to interpret it literally.