Getting off on the wrong foot

"Hey everyone, this is Kellas," said N., as I handed her a bottle of wine. "She's my only other free-market friend."

"I'm not for free markets," said one girl with long braids. "I can't stand how everything is becoming Americanized."

She said Americanized the same way a newscaster would say: "Our homegrown honey-bees are becoming Africanized. Will they be killing you next?"

"Look how the divorce rates are going up in India. It's only happened since they became Americanized."

"Yeah," I said, "but their immolation rates are going down."

She stared at me, then shook her head, lips pursed. I decided to change the subject: "Oh yeah, I heard a really funny story."

N. obliged: "Tell us!"

"There was a raja in India."

"Raja?" asked the braided girl.

"Yeah. I think it means prince. Anyway, this raja was the first person in India to own an automobile."

"Wow, what a cool bottle-opener!" braided girl exclaimed. She and N. discussed the bottle-opener's origin and merits, until N. remembered my story: "So the raja was the first guy in India to own an automobile?"

"That's not the story. He ran over a small, beggar child and killed it."

"It? You called a child an it?" Braids looked at me, disgusted.

"Well, I don't know the gender. My dad never specified. It's his story." I tried to offload my callousness. "And anyway, it happened a hundred years ago."

"So what happened?"

"He ran it...him...over and killed...him. He felt so guilty, he gave the child's family a huge fortune. After that, he was never able to drive his car again."

"Because they took away his license?" asked N.

"No, because everyone kept throwing their children and old relatives in the way of his car."

My dad and I had laughed uproariously, but here, everyone just stared at me. "Let me see that bottle-opener," I said. "I think I'll have a glass of wine."