March 20th, 2006

Erstwhile Concept Art

I'm Hoping It's A Lie

A dude in college isn't having much luck with the ladies. He decides he's either got to change himself into a mean jerk, because that seems to be what the ladies are attracted to, or he's got to wait five years so that the ladies will grow up and realize they don't have to go with the mean jerks and that the nice guys are far superior.

Two and a half years later, he flips open a journal and reads an entry from that time: "S'gonna be a long five years." He thinks back, reaching into the depths of his mind. And he admits to himself, actually, it has been a long two and a half years, and it promises to be another long two and a half years again. Life stayed on its old grinding path and never took to the dizzying new heights that were constantly promised. The ladies are still giving him no luck, only now it's because they're going through a "no dating anyone" phase to recover from the "let's date jerks!" phase. Some of them never made it out the other side and are now marrying the jerks.

Another two and a half years later finds him hopelessly addicted to crack.

Okay, I made that last bit up. I hope.

The point is, there's a tragedy in this story, and it's not the fact that the dude can't score a lady friend (or the cocaine bit in the sensationalized version.) It's that the whole story is as old as time itself, the prelude to every "luckless guy suddenly, finally meets the girl of his dreams and they have a brief awkward courtship phase with lots of laughs before they finally get hitched" narrative that gets an automatic three stars out of every second film critic, makes a decent haul at the box office, and goes to DVD three months later with commentary by some poor schlep of a director who you've never heard of. There are no true stories left in the world, and that's tragic.