Would You Pass the Jesus Test?
This isn’t about religion. Not really.
This weekend you’ve found yourself visiting some neighbors for a relaxing barbecue. You have some close friends there as well as some new stragglers who were invited. One of them is me.
I’m 6 feet, 200 lbs, with big old tired blue eyes and usually a smile on my face when I know someone is looking.
Dinner goes well.
A few beers, some nice chats about your city, where I’m from, and how yes, I can speak some Chinese even though I’m whiter than ivory.
And yes, I can perform like a dancing monkey for you and translate what you say back to you in Mandarin.
And no, I’m definitely not describing you as a foreigner who couldn’t use chopsticks if your life depended on it instead of actually translating the words you ask.
Two hours later you leave in an angry huff after gathering your family together, barely saying goodbye to the host for providing you with delicious beer-battered sustenance.
I find out later why — it’s because I said Jesus.
Or more specifically, in the most Canadian way possible, “Jesus Christ, it’s hot out here today, eh?”
