I was at Rebecca’s house when her father showed up. He was dropping off some groceries and found us in the living room. He immediately got a chin up, began to show his displeasure at my presence. Rebecca took him into the kitchen, but I could hear the man resenting me and calling me, in a shouting whisper, the “country boy” who was after Rebecca’s apartment. He said he had seen me hanging around his daughter’s house more than once. He almost accused me of being a stalker.
The thing that struck me the most was that the girl was giving my dad the same response, saying that we were just moonlighting together in the university library, and that’s why we were hanging out. And we had actually been in a relationship for two months, I just took the time to tell Rebecca that just because my parents have a house in the suburbs doesn’t mean I’m from the countryside. We live very close to the city, we have a nice two-story house, and my father is a businessman. Yes, I don’t drive expensive foreign cars or shout at the top of my voice that I come from a wealthy family, but that’s for the best. That’s how people like Rebecca and her family are weeded out.
It is not for nothing that my mother told me not to talk about any kind of wealth, because the person I love should not look at that in the first place. And he certainly shouldn’t be embarrassed by me, even if I’m not rich at first glance.
