The year was 1994, my first year living in the foreign land known as New Jersey. This is a strange place that greets travelers in the north with the wonderful smell of oil refineries. There is a monster that lives in the swamps in the south, and he’s got night vision goggles so he is good at avoiding humans. But that is another story for another day.

It was my first dinner with my girlfriend’s parents. It is always a big deal when you first meet the parents but I had no idea of the ‘Test’ that I would soon face.

Apparently, her family has this way of weeding out prospective suitors with a simple yet complex decision. Answer wisely, or the consequences are dire. Dinner is served and you must make a choice: mayonnaise or miracle whip.

For some unknown reason, this family also liked to serve sandwiches a lot. But I digress.

I never realized the pressure a simple condiment choice brought. I had always treated it as a mood thing. Today I might feel like mustard on my ham sandwich, next week it could be horseradish on my roast beef.

This was the last dinner I had with them.
==========================================