Chick flicks -- a guy's worst
November 10, 2008 | If it's true that hell hath no
fury like a woman scorned, then I'm in big trouble.
You see, every now and then I make a mistake. I don't
intend to, but being a man, I don't fully comprehend
the more than 3 trillion ways to anger a woman. It's
usually not the big things that get my wife going, it's
the little things, like - heaven forbid - forgetting
to put my socks in the dirty clothes bin. It's not like
I caused the fall of man, though my friend's father
has been accused of that by his wife.
Usually, I can patch things up by apologizing profusely
and taking her out to eat. But when I've really blown
it, I must resort to some tremendous act of penance.
When it comes to penance, there are a number of options
a man can resort to. The most severe include cutting
off limbs, or worse yet, buying diamonds - what a rip
off. Others include washing dishes, making dinner, cleaning
the toilet and watching the kids. For whatever reason
- mostly because I already do those things - my wife
isn't impressed by my repentance dinners. She demands
So, when I've really made a mess of things, I watch
a chick flick with her.
Stop laughing, it's not funny. I would rather amputate
my pinkies than watch a chick flick, and my wife knows
it. That's why she delights in chick flicks. It's a
two-hour form of torture. Horror movies have nothing
on chick flicks because there is nothing more terrifying
than listening to women in chick flicks whine and complain
about how awful men are and how they wish life were
more like that. And, of course, there's always the obligatory
slap to your face when your wife finishes watching.
"You jerk, why can't you be like him?"
"Because I'm straight."
I think the reason I really hate chick flicks is they
paint this absurd view of the world that women come
to believe is attainable. The plots are all recycled
and unoriginal. In fact, they're so predictable, that
I will give you the anatomy of nearly every chick flick.
If you're female and reading this, you may want to get
a bowl of popcorn and a bucket of rocky road ice cream,
because this will be as good as watching Dirty Dancing.
Every chick flick centers around a beautiful woman
who is usually dating or engaged to some guy that she
thinks is the greatest thing since Yaz. This woman is
practically perfect in every way. The pristine example
of purity, she's kind, happy, funny and usually stressed
out about everything. Depending on the movie, her life
is either absolutely perfect or in chaos. Either way,
we see an extreme.
Enter her boyfriend or fiance. At first, he seems
great. He's the absolute gentleman and constantly witty,
yet there's something about him that doesn't add up.
This is to make all the women viewers inherently distrust
him. And they should, as we're about to discover.
About 20 minutes into the film, the protagonist catches
her boyfriend or fiance cheating on her, or he'll just
dump her - always for another woman. This is the important
part of the film that unifies the female viewers and
begins their hate fest. As they view this act of infidelity,
they instantly jump into feminazi mode, especially if
they're watching the film together.
"I sure hate that guy."
"Oh, me too. Why do guys suck so bad?"
"Oh my gosh, like, I know! Men are such pigs."
This goes on for a few minutes until they've gotten
this initial bout out of their systems and can get back
to watching the protagonist wallow in self pity and
drink herself into a near stupor. The female viewers
all feel bad for her, and any male viewers feel bad
for themselves for having to watch this when a football
game is probably on somewhere.
While the protagonist complains about how unfair life
is and how she has such horrible luck with men - to
encouraging nods from female viewers - the protagonist's
quirky friend comes over to console her and gripe about
men some more. The main requirement for this friend
is she must be quirky and uglier than the protagonist.
She usually has no dating experience to speak of, but
is great for throwing in support like, "Honey, you know
men are all liars and dirty scoundrels who only date
women to cheat on them."
This makes the protagonist either smile, start crying,
eat a half gallon of chocolate ice cream or go on a
five-minute tirade about how she didn't even see it
coming. Oh, and she gives up on men. Right...
Just when all seems lost -- mostly my sanity -- Prince
Charming shows up in an awkward or chance encounter.
Of course, since the protagonist has had her heart broken,
she's an absolute monster to him, but because he's so
wonderful, he sticks around and buoys her up. They part
after a bunch of awkward scenes that would be much improved
if the Joker would show up and snipe the protagonist.
Though the protagonist thinks her meeting with Prince
Charming is just a fluke, she can't stop thinking about
him and hangs around the phone all day, desperately
waiting for him to call. And guess what? He calls. They
date. They fight. She's a beast to him. He is always
sweet. Life is wonderful and they get married and live
happily ever after.
After the film is over, I get hit again and my wife
says, "Why can't you be more like him?"
I thought we already went over that. But, at least
I'm out of the dog house, until I blow it again, which
will probably happen when my wife reads this. Love ya,
OK, I'll put in Pride and Prejudice.