This has the potential to be embarrassing and reflect poorly on my character, but I'm an honest engine, I just can't help it.
Intervention on A&E is my favorite guilty pleasure.
Much like Dr. Lara's radio show, it's a train wreck I just have to immerse myself in. You see, I'm a hyper-empathetic character by nature so it's not uncommon that I'll literally feel my heart break when I pass someone in a wheelchair or see someone sporting a cast and limping, and my respective limb will actually start aching. It's a pretty crazy-out-of-body experience that I've grown accustomed to.
The other day Alyssa and I were laying, one of her favorite pastimes, while watching Intervention, one of my favorite pastimes, and it was one that I will never forget. I can usually be found watching the show in my default "empathetic stance" - hands over mouth, balled into fists and shivering at the first sight of a needle. But this time, I was chin-to-the-floor. glued to the screen. IN HYSTERICS.
Alyssa and I met Janet last week. Imagine Cruella Deville morphed perfectly with Magda from There's Something About Mary. Got it? That's Janet. Early-50s with frizzy blonde hair, cigarette and drink in hand, rolls falling over the edge of her scantily clad outfits, flashing old men. d r u n k every second of the day.
I've seen many-a-Intervention, but none compare to this one. YA'LL, this lady couldn't utter a word without slurring. She literally walked around her small country town alone in the daylight with a glass of wine flashing old men on their porches. There was even a moment that she was begging her ex-husband to take her back in a voice that is comparable to the high pitch noise only dogs can hear. with a HUGE piece of brisket hanging out of her mouth. I just can't imagine why he'd have second thoughts...
Now, one of my fondest childhood memories is making home videos with our dad all over the neighborhood. Of course he came up with all the brilliant ideas, told us what to say and what to do, and like good children/mindless pawns, we acted. There's a particular scene from one of our Anderson Home Movies that I was reminded of on the fateful day I met Janet.
In a classic rendition of Aesop's fable, my sister and I were the Tortoise and the Hare. During this particular scene, my sister, The Hare, is passed out under a tree napping when I ride by her on my bicycle (slightly leaning to the right to keep my balance, no thanks to those damn training wheels). I yelled something characteristically antagonistic to wake her up, and she came running after me..... the scene from Janet's fable went a little something like that, with the exception of the pop-up-and-run part. Janet was passed out next to a car in front of her house after she lost her balance and fell with a glass of wine in hand. Her niece rode by on a bicycle, noticing Janet on the ground. The niece came back to poke her and proclaimed, "Aunt Janet is dead." Janet stirred and said, "I wissh."
So maybe that doesn't sound very funny, but the A&E camera crew filmed from the same angles that dad did. I thought it was a good connection.
Anyway, the final bit of hysteria with Janet was in the actual intervention when she couldn't keep her groping hands off her 80 year old boyfriend, Bob. She announced at they would be married soon, then proceeded to beg her ex-husband over there to profess his love for her ?? You guys, T R A I N W R E C K. But the worst part was when her son began reading a letter from his heart, "Mom, I love you so much and miss the relationship we once had..." Janet threw up her arms in disgust and yelled, "God almighy, thisis b*llsh*t." Maybe not the best reaction from a mother?
Needless to say, my esophagus and liver weren't aching with empathy. I pitied her. In fact, I think high schools should just replay Janet's show instead of those drunk driving wreck videos. I'm never picking up a beer again.
Well that's a lie, because "everything in moderation" is my motto, but MARK MY WORDS (and ignore the picture of me with vodka in the previous post), I promise I will never be an alcoholic.
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