Sooner or later (immediately for tarty arties, near the end of the third year for Computer Science nerds), most people who come to University find themselves attached to a romantic partner, possibly one of their own choice rather than one dictated by beer and desperation. For a time, this relationship can appear to be a pleasureable state of affairs, providing your better half isn't one of those annoying bastards who wakes up before you and then wakes you up to share their early morning joy. However, there comes a moment in every student's life when they are faced with A Parental Visit during which their folks will expect to Meet The Partner. The partner who dyes their hair green by the simple expedient of wiping their noses upwards; the partner who has "Fuck me and marry me young" tattooed on their upper bicep or breast, and usually wears clothes that expose it; the partner who makes a new age crusty look like something with human rights entitlement; the partner whose idea of politeness is spitting out the last of the live hamster he/she is eating before giving vent to numerous expletives; the partner who perfectly complements the radical new image you have found for yourself since getting off with them, which is going to be hard enough to explain. In short, the partner that most parents would immediately break the Geneva Convention over and, more seriously, disown you for.
It is now that you wish you hadn't raved about Viv/Nigel/Flossie on the phone last week. Before considering further how to get the hell out of this situation, it helps to understand the kind of partner your parents would like you to share your heart with, instead of your bodily fluids. Foremost, parents like partners who nag you to change. Change your underwear more than once a week is their first preference but following this, serious cosmetic surgery on your personality, tastes and dress is heartily applauded. They like to feel that their good work is being continued. My parents actually adored my ex-girlfriend - in fact, they'd like to disown me and adopt her - and if she'd only demanded that I shaved my beard off, they'd have booked the church ASAP. That she didn't is their only lingering major disappointment, shared by all the relatives who refused to kiss me at Xmas (as you can see, there are lots of advantages to growing one and they all come from the part of my gene pool I never paddle in).
Secondly, parents like partners who dress the way they wish you would - sensibly, soberly, and without the aid of Doc Marten. Perhaps they hope that when you finally consummate the relationship (when? hurhurhur...), you might accidentally put their clothes on by mistake afterwards. Or maybe they hope that is the sort of cross-dressing behaviour your partner will discourage in future.
Thirdly, parents like partners with grandchildren potential. Not immediate potential; ghod forbid you breed while you still have your present tastes in entertainment and friends. But someone who doesn't spit on photos of your young nephews, who possesses hips through which you could deliver a rugby team, who can say the word "nappy" and not precede it with the phrase, "I could never change a ...", and who shares Michael Portillo's charitable views on single parents. The reasoning being that they went through hell on speed to bring you up so now it's your turn to come within two inches and one open bleach bottle of a high court case.
Fourthly, parents like partners of the opposite sex to you, in which case it doesn't matter whether you're going out with Prince Edward or k d lang, you have a lot more to worry about. None of which I can help you with, although I wish you the best.
What can you do to avoid the bitter silences and polite questions ("Tell me, Jennifer, where did you get your nipple pierced?") that are inevitable in this major strategic meeting? Arranging for an assassin to shoot their tyres out on the drive down is one solution completely outside your budget. Similarly, changing your name, emigrating, faking your own death and joining the next hippy convoy are all courses of action that can interfere with your studies and your parental contributions. Many people enter two relationships; one partner who likes sharing their dope and doing it in the back of your Uno, and a "Sunday best" partner purely for show. Christian Union members come highly rated in this category, and have the advantage that they're usually so naïve you can easily cheat on them. Unfortunately, this can have regrettable consequences later, eg. when the RocSoc finds out you've been dating CU members.
The only honourable course left open is to be mature and sensible. Recognise that it is not always possible to have your cake and eat it. That there are some people whom fate did not intend you to share your life with forever. That sometimes the right thing to do is often the hardest and most difficult thing to admit to yourself and explain to your loved ones, but nevertheless it is a necessary and intelligent response. Speaking firmly but gently into the receiver, lie like fuck and tell your folks you'll be on a rag trip that weekend.
Ade Rixon