| Note: Before the jokes start rolling in, I should point out that as deep as Sylvia and my relationship is, it's a purely PLATONIC one. Get your minds out of the gutter, sickos:] |
| Well, I've finally collected the last piece of evidence that I am NOT, in fact, living in a romantic comedy. Up till now, I'd been racking it up to the whole "introductory-tragic-comedy" stuff at the start of the movie that helps you get to know the character as a simpleton and shmuck. I think 20 years of character development might be a little much, but I'm not the director, it ain't my call. However, today iI'm walking to my class, and I get in the building, and it's been raining, so everything is wet, and there is this weird ridged rug in the entryway. So, I'm walking, and apparently the girl behind me tripped (I noticed she had weird-heeled shoes, probably why) and as she was falling she snagged at my arm. Well, every vigilant to the plight of a pretty girl, I managed to turn AND catch her before she hit. And let me tell you, she was really cute. Not sorrority-made-up-fake-hot cute, but spunky-cool-punk-bright-red-hair cute. So, here I am, with this girl I just deftly snagged sitting in my arms, and I help her up, and the soft music starts, and she turns to me and says.... "thanks." And then walks the other way. obviously she DIDN'T read the script. Addendum: It has been brought to my attention that in any true romantic comedy, things would have to go this way, to set up for the hijinks of finding out who she is, and then come Monday she'll be sitting on the steps waiting for me to come to class. Thanks Dan, now I have something ELSE to stress about all weekend:] |