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!!
My cousins actually did a DNA test because they believe themselves to have come from royalty and wanted to confirm it. It came back such and such percent Polish, which they claim as royal somehow. I did some digging and it turns out our ancestors were actually some kind of Polish boat worker hicks who came to America illegally to escape gambling debt that amounted to less than $50
Honestly redneck boat Poles is way cooler than being descended of some foppish princeling. Your real ancestors would have held up their fake ancestors and ran their pockets.
Infinitely cooler than being descended from some inbred noble.
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