DEAR MISS MANNERS: Lately at social events, I often find myself trapped by people who want to share, in excruciating detail, their genetic test results.
Each person finds their own results deeply compelling, marveling at length over being 3% this and 15% that, with stunning reveals like, “I thought I we were Welsh, but it turns out we’re Scottish!”
Meanwhile, the next person is on deck, barely half-listening, eagerly getting ready to launch into their own genetic saga.
Monologuing about the minutiae of one’s DNA is self-absorption at, quite literally, the cellular level. Is there a polite way to shut this down?
GENTLE READER: Oh, dear. Miss Manners would have thought that we had established the idea that bragging about one’s lineage is rude, and now it has started up again.
Well, you could try expanding the scope of the conversation. Try, “What would your ancestors have thought of the state of America today?” Or, “I suppose you must want to travel there now. What are your vacation plans this year?”
Or, “Excuse me, I need to freshen my drink.”
they tested my cum and it came back Probably Nordic, just like Opa always said!!
I find it hilarious the way people from the US have this thing where they become Ethnicity Sommeliers and go deeply into the most minute percentages of European blood that they have, and then start identifying themselves as being “half Italian, half Irish” but somehow still “3% Shoshone” when the truth is that they’re just 100% cracker
With a dash of Italian, a spoonful of English, and a giant slab of Bavarian, I Professor Crakkker have created the most perect mayo abomination
When you find out “cracker” isn’t even a real ethnicity but its still somehow your ethnicity regardless.