Now you're in the sunken place.

When I finally went home to meet my then-girlfriend's family, I think we had already softened the blow by a neutral-ground introduction beforehand. Maybe. [F--k, the timeline's all jumbled in my head, and I'm not up for losing another conversation at the moment, so let's just proceed accordingly]

Anyway, when I (possibly) first met her parents, it was in a hospital recovery room of all places, where her father had just gotten out of surgery. Conversation was tough, but we could always fall back on ye ol' So, you're doing okay, sir? bit of friendliness. It was a solid distraction, as opposed to the knowing glance of So, you're the guy who's f--king our daughter? But outside of that tiny elephant in the room, everything else was easy-peasy, you know? I mean...

...we were all white together, got along just fine. I mean right. We were alright together.

Prior to hauling ass out of town for a romantic weekend, er, Saturday, I strong-armed my wife into accompanying me to that dreamy rom-com lighting up the silver screen, Jordan Peele's smash hit, Get Out. Fine, it may not be a contemporary version of Meet the Parents (as I tried to sell it), but she didn't need to know that. Had she caught wind that it was scary, I never would have got her to go.

But after her spider-sense tingled, she sneaked off into the kitchen to watch the preview on her phone (insert Muldoon's Clevah Gurl), and I was sunk. 

At least initially.

Like any guy trying to get a girl to do something she doesn't think she'll enjoy (in my case, marry me), I didn't give up. And as we sat down in Auditorium 7, she had already psyched herself out. When I tell you she jumped early on, let me be clear: not just one cheek, not one and a half, no. Her (sweet) ass entirely left the seat. On more than one occasion. 

Chris is a good dude, holding it down in the city as a photographer specializing in, you guessed it, black and whites. Rose, well I'm not sure what the f--k she does, is his girlfriend, and when we catch up with them, they're just about headed out the door for a romantic weekend of their own. But instead of a blustery Baltimore like me and my lady-friend, they are instead headed upstate to her childhood home, er, family estate, to meet her parents. While most guys might be thinking I wonder if her Pops is gonna like me?, Chris is locked in on, Does her dad know I'm black? Rose assures him, it won't be a thing. Or a thang.

Uh, about that...

As someone as smart and handsome as you clearly seem to be, you've already seen the trailer (or the film) and you know what Chris is headed into. But if for some reason you haven't? Don't. Go in blind as a bat and allow this subversive little flick to knock the f--k out of you. For me, even thinking the trailer gave a little too much away, I was still routinely floored by the twists and turns that Get Out served up. Believe the hype, as Peele's directorial debut is a Hell of a ride.

This photograph is just like any moment in my classroom. Except, you know, the direct opposite. 

Speaking of shockingly good times, here are the Yays and Boos. They are actually neither shocking nor enjoyable, but to avoid a lot of spoilers, I'm going to dial these f--kers back for a change. Wait, what? Really? You're not going to drone on and on like an asshole? Surprise!

Not quite up there with the Rod Tidwell,
this dude takes the silver medal for all-time Rod's.

Yaaaaaaaaaaaay!

• Dude, I could watch Daniel Kaluuya look out of the corner of his eyes for the rest of my life. This guy was f--king awesome as Chris, the most laid-back/super skeptical guy on the planet.
• So, uh, that opening scene? That shit was traumatic! (and nearly killed my wife)
• I wasn't really a fan of Rose in the beginning (uh, or the end), but I was a fan of her panties. Rowr.
• Hypnosis has been represented in film before, right? But never as terrifyingly beautiful as it is here.
• Groundskeeper Willie Walter was a weird dude. Like, super f--king weird. Good thing that motherf--ker sounded a lot like Ned Flanders, which totally redeems his alarmingly high creep factor.
• STEPHEN ROOT! Hell yeah!
• Roy's Dahmer rundown was totally appreciated. I think I need to watch a little more A&E now.
• Not only do I love it when Bradley Whitford plays a weasely douchebag (Billy Madison, anyone?), but when he looks like Michael P. Keaton's dad in the process? Yeah, it's boner time.
• So that weird promo video was kind of awesome, right? Right?
• Okay, when Roy takes his story to the police, I was actually convinced that something good was going to come of it. But the actual result? Was better than good...it was f--king great.
• The end! Holy shit, I was shook there for a minute.
• And finally, I can only imagine how screwed up my face got when I first saw that this was Jordan Peele's directorial debut. But whatever hideous expression was on my face then, will now be replaced by the direct opposite with whatever this dude does next. No pressure, right?

That's the same look I had on my face during this scene.

Booooooooooo!

• F--k you, Deer. Even though I knew you were coming, your tick-filled ass scared the f--k out of me.
• So that cop was a real dickhole, was he not?
• Can you f--king imagine meeting your girlfriend's mom and she's a Jedi master at hypnosis? Yeah, no. I'm out.
• What the f--k was with her MMA-loving brother? This guy was like an F5 level douche. If only a cow had blown into him...
• Look, between you and me, I only jumped once. But it was a big f--king jump, I'll admit. The Boo? It was when someone walked by.
• I don't smoke, never have, never will...but I think it's safe to say that if you're at your girlfriends' creepy mansion, you gotta kick that shit for the weekend. Or, at least, knock off the midnight smoke breaks. Trust me.
• I've learned a lot from The Simpsons, possibly too much. But if the click and flash of a camera makes anything malfunction, be it a animatronic Itchy or Scratchy, or say, a kind black man dressed like a scarecrow, you best get the f--k out of Dodge immediately. Or Krustyland.
• Nothing personal at all, but I generally hate whatever character Catherine Keener is playing. And that tea-stirring nonsense did nothing to change that.
• F--k that little door. We've got no time for curiosity, even if those picture are worth a (couple of) thousand words.
• I. Had. The time of my liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiife. And I owe it all to youuuuuuuuu.  F--k this song. F--k all this.
• And finally, the timing of this film is absolutely perfect. And yes, that's a Boo. A f--king big one.

My wife and I have been together for over sixteen years, and any awkward family meetings are a distant memory at this point. The way I see it, the next time I'll be in that tough spot, will be when I'm the big scary Dad to some punk kid my lovely daughter brings home. And I don't care what color skin that dude has. I'll only have two words for him no matter what he looks like.

Get out.

Just kidding. I'm not some kind of overprotective psycho or anything. 

I'm totally gonna go with f--k off, instead.