Aw man. Minding my own business and lazily evaluating tv channels hoping for a slot machine jackpot! movie when I came across Before Sunset. And not just any scene…right before the final scene.

One of the most startling and best endings to a movie. (Up there Se7en’s ending which for movie endings we desire/enjoy really “checks all the boxes.”)

Look I ain’t running through the airport just because I figured out She’s The One. I’m outta shape and slow the airplane would be long gone before I got there. Smell Ya Later.

And there’s no way I’m pulling her taut body against mine for a passionate kiss in a rainstorm. I can’t stand wet socks. I hate wet socks more than I like being loved.

The whole cue cards thing on Christmas eve is not gonna happen either: I’m left handed my handwriting is awful. My friend’s dad had a stroke 4 years ago and his handwriting is better than mine. Also, it’s cold outside. It’s not happening.

So most romantic comedies are for me…just comedies. Now. Until I watched Before Sunset. I didn’t know that was possible. A cute French girl with an alright butt making you tea in her Paris apartment…like yo. All while Nina Simone’s Just In Time (from The Tomato Collection no less!) plays in the background. What? How is this possible? I’ve watched every single Marvel movie but this is an audacious suspension of disbelief.

You know that…all of that is not on Tinder.

Shucks. Now I gotta go outside for a walk and smoke a cigar or two and think about the choices I’ve made in this life. Ain’t nobody with an alright butt is making me tea. And tea like sandwiches magically taste better when somebody makes them for you.

Rude. All I wanted was a movie to inspire a Sunday-doze on the couch and instead, the universe asked me to put on pants and think about romance.

-28-

Listen to My Summer Lair @ W • T • F

Also published on Medium.