Much in the same way drunks appreciate any drink put before them as long as it’s got proof, I’ve never met a game I didn’t like. At least for one pass. (If anyone offers you an evening spent playing Titanic: The Board Game, run far away.) But it was with some hesitation that I agreed to the Sunday night activity my dad planned for us last weekend: the home version of The Newlywed Game.

You’d think the hesitation would come from the fear of answering questions about my sexual habits in front of my dad, but that wasn’t really it. Nor was it the risk of hearing about my dad’s habits, arguably much more scarring a scenario. My problem was I just didn’t see how, remembering what little I did of the TV show, there’d be much game in this game.

Fortunately, my fears were misplaced. The game ended up being kinda fun. We tiptoed around the sex stuff, not because of the awkwardness, but because young ears were playing nearby. Unfortunately, there was another, bigger problem that revealed itself. Sarah and I are apparently complete strangers.

I imagine us trying to pass the green card test, or what I presume to be the green card test, assuming the movie Green Card is an accurate reflection of reality. We’d fail miserably. They’d lead me out of the room, ask her a question about my favorite fruit, find our questions to be completely at odds—she’d say “Bananas?” and they’d say, “Oh, I’m sorry ma’am, the correct answer is Cherries. Tough break.”—then send me back to whatever backwater country I came from (i.e. Indiana).

Bananas are fine on an occasional breakfast cereal, but they hold no candle to the everlasting sublimity that is the cherry. To be fair, I missed a couple questions about Sarah as well, including her shoe size (just a half-size off) and the name of her last boyfriend before me. I said The Rabbi; turns out it was The Guy With The Knife.

Ultimately, beause of some escalating point values and some lucky breaks, we ended up tying another couple for first place. I guess that means we can get married now. Just don’t expect any bananas at the wedding.