Michael decided to take me to see He's Just Not That Into You. Yeh. I know. A total chick flick. So you can understand my suspicion when he suggested we go and see it on Valentine's Day.
"What? You actually want to see it?"
"Yeh. It looks good. I thought it was a movie you'd like to see."
"Hmmmmph." I looked at him through narrowed eye slits.
I pondered all of his angles. You see, we have this unspoken agreement between us. I don't bother him to see The Women and Atonement and The Devil Wears Prada and Revolutionary Road and he doesn't pester me to see The Day The Earth Stood Still, Shooter and The Godfather I, II and III and other crap like that. So I wondered, why this movie? I know he doesn't really care for Jennifer Aniston, we've seen Scarlett in other movies, the other brunettes didn't catch his eye, Drew Barrymore hasn't held his interest since Poison Ivy. Hmmmmph. I do believe he got a little irritated with me. Here I am, trying to take you to a movie...
I began to feel a little ungrateful. And paranoid. Maybe he was just trying to be a sweet husband take me to a movie that I would enjoy. What is the harm in that?
So we went. With a gift card from a raffle we won when some of our friends were going to Uganda. There is nothing better than getting in for free, courtesy of a gift card, am I right? The movie was funny. It was interesting. We laughed, all that good stuff.
Then Scarlett Johansson came onto the screen, all blond and voluptuous, with those bee-stung lips and that raspy voice of hers.
I had to give Michael a cup to catch all the drool hanging from his bottom lip. What made me hate her more was the role she played onscreen. A single girl who fell for a married man. Why are all the good ones married? Maybe he was meant to be with her's, despite the wife. So she decided to go ahead and "pursue a friendship". So much for a friendship because about five minutes later, we see him sitting in her bed and her wearing his button-down shirt.
I don't know about you, but I don't think I would like it if my husband had friends that looked like Scarlett Johanssen. Nothing would make me happier than to see my husband with a crew of old, wrinkly, toothless, hairy-moled, saggy and bull-dykish female friends. You wanna go hang out with your crew? Go ahead, honey, knock yourself out.
To be totally honest, it's not so much how the female looks, because I'm sure he encounters beautiful women all the time. It's the mentality about married men in general that some single women possess that makes my hair stand on end. I find it extremely offensive when single women decide that a married man is fair game. As if the vows a man makes to his wife mean nothing.
It almost makes me want to get all ghetto on the female. Like rip out your weave, stomp a mudhole in your backside, bust you in yo head type of ghetto.
It makes me want to say, sorry girlfriend...I don't care how "different" he and his wife are...how opposite their interests are...how they have "grown apart"...how his wife is boring now that they have kids...how his wife won't do certain things in bed...how they are so busy with their careers...how his wife never appreciated him...how much more interesting you are....how much more pretty you are...how he would much rather be with you than her...he is still a married man.
He stood before God, a church, his family or a courthouse and he agreed to marry this woman for better or for worse. He agreed to forsake all others before her. He might even have children with her. And a home. Joint bank accounts and a mortgage. And just because a shiny jewel happens to catch his eye for a minute...none of those things are going to change. And believe me, I realize it takes two to tango, but I can't help but be incredibly disappointed when the main perpetrator is the female. It kinda makes me ashamed of my gender.
As you can see, this movie hit a nerve. But I'll step down from my soapbox now.
I was still processing what was going on in the movie when this scene nearly made my husband go into convulsions. It looked as if Scarlett and the married man were going to get busy right on his desk. And my husband was torn between staring at the movie screen and praying Scarlett wouldn't (or would?) fall out of her top and staring at me, like, sorry honey! My eyes! My eyes!
And that is why Scarlett Johansson is a heifer.