I have been accused, and I half-heartedly agree, that at times and under the right conditions of duress, that I have a tendency to paint guys in, what some might say could possibly be an unflattering light. …and begrudgingly, I have to admit that I have on occasion been a boy basher. Never one to confess a flaw let alone a fault, between you and me; I have some serious, deep rooted, and long running love-hate relationships with them. To be completely honest, it is sometimes the only thing of stability in my life, so I like to think of it as more of a mild but gnawingly consistent form of latent albeit subtle form of aggression.
There are very few guys that I actually enjoy for more than a minute or two, but I always go running back to them because I like the idea that one of them one day will turn out to be a diamond in the rough. I still believe that eventually, there will be a toy surprise waiting for me at the bottom of the box of Cracker Jacks that is my life.
Kind of like a Ben Affleck movie. He is likable enough and I keep going to see his movies, because I know that one of them one day is bound to be a sure fire hit…and sometimes you just have to have faith in something, and I have faith in Ben Affleck.
I remember the film Gigli (I use the word “film” in the loosest possible sense of the word in reference to this particular theatrical massacre.) However, despite all the scathing reviews, and in part, because I practically have the faith of a blind martyr, I defiantly marched up to the ticket counter and purchased my ticket. I suddenly had a sinking feeling in my stomach and prayed that it wasn’t the drive-through Chinese that I ate for lunch. Twenty minutes into the movie and I can only focus on just how unnaturally large Ben’s teeth are in every scene, and not in a “Julia Roberts” good way.
Instead of concentrating on what was sure to be an Oscar worthy moment of dialogue, I can only wonder if at one point, early in his career if he had requested from his dentist to remove his actual human teeth and replace them with horse dentures.
Disturbed but satisfied that this must have happened, I then begin to Google “equine dentistry” on my phone to ascertain the cost of just such a procedure until the usher points his flashlight in my general direction as a gesture meant for me to cease and desist. The blaringly obtrusive bright light from his flashlight was, coincidentally making way more of a disturbance to the rest of the theater than my tiny iPhone screen.
Sitting through the rest of the movie, I tried to keep my mind from wondering onto anything else that could potentially distract me from allowing the potential of Ben’s brilliance to wash over me. However, by the time end credits rolled across the screen, the slight annoyance from my sinking feeling had been evicted by the more ruthless landlord of utter disappointment. Not just the tiny sting of disappointment from finding out that your entire high school class is now married with the exception of you. No. This was more like, “there is a rather large plane approaching the broad side of a mountain and your riding shotgun” kind of disappointment.
After a month or two, I forgot the disaster that was Gigli and am only occasionally reminded when I pass the barrel of discounted DVD’s inside Blockbuster. So faith intact, I continue to watch Mr. Affleck’s movies in blind child-like anticipation.
…Just the way I continue to believe in my grandmother’s wisdom that there is indeed a lid for every pot…although my pot is now a little beaten and somewhat lop-sided.
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