I have a problem.
No, it's not with alcohol, and it's not a bitch. It's with romantic comedies.
Stop judging me for my effeminate movie tastes, we all have guilty pleasures. The problem is that this guilty pleasure causes me more pain than it does enjoyment. They are all predictable; I know that by now. Guy and girl meet under some awkward circumstances, one of them is already involved with someone, person they're involved with turns out to be an asshole, guy and girl hook up, guy and girl dramatically break up, one of them dramatically runs to the other's side to get the other back and all of it ends happily ever after. Every time. I think that might be where the problem starts.
Under normal circumstances, I'm not naive enough to think that that stuff actually exists. But by the end of the rom com of the day, when my brain is a gooey mess and my face is buried in my coat with that signature warm-and-toasty feeling, I start to think.
Where the hell are these people in real life? All writing has to be based on some fact. Some guy, somewhere in the world, must have existed at some time to set the standard for the romantic comedy heartthrob. At least one, right? The human imagination isn't that powerful. It can't create things from scratch like that... can it?
Then I need an espresso shot and a targeted mass of carbohydrates to set my mind straight.
It just isn't a good combination. My mind, hopeful, impressionable, and at its deep roots, even optimistic, depends on concepts like that. By that time, it's hopeless; Paramount Pictures has punked me again with a textbook frothy box office sweetheart.
I always leave the movie theater and remain completely taciturn on the ride home, not necessarily unwilling to speak but unable to find any words to say or any reason to say them. The reason for this, in reality, is not because I'm depressed; it's because my mind is scoping out my entire viewing area, planning to pounce on the next spotted moving object that resembles Ashton Kutcher.
Even if the resemblance is a stretch.
...A big stretch.
Oh christ, Valentine's Day is in less than a month. God help me.
