A Cut Above

I have a lot of anecdotes, which is pretty much why I blog, but few of them top the infamous tale of the time I pulled a knife on my friend Allison's grandmother. (Seriously, if you don't know that one, familiarize yourself now.)

It goes without saying that I haven't been able to live that moment down, particularly with Allison's family. Over the past two years, Allison says they still refer to me as "the nice boy with the knife." Case in point, this amusing message I got from Allison today:

I was having dinner with my parents this weekend, and we were talking about some kind of host/announcer. My mom said, "Your friend Kevin would be great at that" to which my dad replied, "Is that the nice boy with the knife?" stabbing the air with his butter knife. That shit's like 9-11, we'll never forget.

I take it as a compliment that they believe the charming aspects of me qualify me to be some sort of host, superseding my knife-wielding tendencies. This incident just goes to show that while you can never erase a first impression, you can improve upon it. Oh, and Allison, you know what else is like 9/11? Your face!