All I could say while reading it: Oh my... how heinous!
So, here's how the story goes(my comments in red):
(Guests 0830-03)
"First off, I'd like to say thank you for considering my story. You have a really wonderful website, and you manage to make it both humorous and informative. It's a great resource for those who are *ahem* a little inept as far as social skills go.
These are a handful of stories about Dan, a young man I dated in high school, and his lovely family. The first story begins one evening, when I had come to Dan's house after school. We would usually walk home together, and go either to my house or his. I hadn't noticed it was getting late in the afternoon (around 5:30), until his father poked his head in Dan's bedroom door, where we were studying, looked pointedly at me, and said, "Dan, dinner is ready." Embarrassed that I was intruding
Why should you be?, I stood to go. Dan stopped me and said, "Just stay here. It won't take me long to eat."
What? OK... I thought it was logical and elementary that when there is a guest in your house and you're having dinner, you're absolutely supposed to offer that person dinner as well... I mean, I think it's rude not to do so with the cleaning lady, let alone the person your son is d@ting. Shocked, I remained in the room. After I had gathered the guts to leave, I walked out through the house, passing by the dining room as I was leaving. Summoning as much dignity as I could, I said, "I'm sorry to have interrupted you. Good evening" and I went to let myself out.
Sweety, you're a real lady. Unlike others...
Dan immediately jumped up, grabbed my arm, and said, "I told you to stay in my room. I'm almost done."
Unlike others.. I was humiliated that I was no longer seen as a guest but an intruder, and told Dan as much. He seemed surprised that I was upset.
I guess some people wouldn't know they're being rude and inconsiderate even if there were a red-flashing, loud-beeping RUDE alarm going off in front of them. I told him I'd see him the following day
Frankly, I would have told him I won't see him again if he was the last man on Earth , and left quietly.
There was another incident when his father had left town for a day or two. Dan's mother worked two jobs to support them, while Dan's father stayed home and did the cooking. Not cooking and cleaning, just the cooking. He was fully capable of working; he simply chose to let his wife shoulder the responsibilities of financially supporting their household. But, I digress. Dan and his mother did not know how to cook, and Dan had mentioned to me the previous day that he would have liked to make spaghetti, but he didn't know how. Eager to help, I offered to come and show him how to make spaghetti.
When I had said, "I'll show you how", I suppose he thought I meant, "I'll cook it for you while you and your mother watch televangelists", because that's basically what happened.
Why am I not surprised, by now? Seriously, at this point I think it's legitimate to just say: "OK, people; if you really want to learn how to cook pasta, please stand by me and watch what I'm doing; if not, I'll just go home and leave it for another day". Let alone that, with normal people, if someone is showing you a recipe/cooking at your place, you're supposed to be giving a helping hand. Well, I was a little upset (I should mention that Dan regularly ate at my house, at least once a week, and I had never been invited for dinner.
Back to what I was saying... For my family and pretty much everyone I know, when your kid's girlfriend/boyfriend comes over, you are supposed to feed them
. It's elementary. I didn't expect an invitation,
You're an angel. but I especially did not expect to be treated like a servant when I visited.) When, after announcing to Dan and his mother that the food was ready, he came into the kitchen, loaded his plate up, and said, "Great! You should probably be going home now, isn't it your dinner time as well?"
Whaaaat? I think my jaw dropped trough 3 flats and hit the basement floor. At that point, I would have seriously considered throwing that plate of spagghetti into the guy's head...
can fantasizing sentence me to ehell?
I have the firm belief that this family is the carrier of the "bad manners gene".
Where do you think he learned that kind of behaviour?
"You know, in Romanian language we have a very suggestive expression- "Neamuri proaste"- it means very rude, uncivil, etiquette-clueless people, but it literally translates as "bad family/bad relatives"His mother quite frequently regaled me with stories of her menstrual troubles
Ewwwwwww... grosss(really things which are too graphic to mention here). Not to mention, when Dan and I broke up (much to his father's relief; the man openly hated me not only because I am a practicing Catholic and he disagreed with my choice of religion, but because I am a redhead as well.
Good reason indeed 
), his mother felt the need to verbally bash me, saying I dressed like a slut.
Sure she was in a position to give lessons...I may have been a typical teenager, but my dress was far from inappropriate.
Thankfully, I am now with a wonderful man whose manners are impeccable (he actually opens doors for me. Dan believed I should open doors for him!
That would have been something to watch...), and whose family is so kind, they are like my own family.
I am truly thankful to have found people who are not carriers of the "bad etiquette gene"."