Nothing on the DVR last night worth watching, so I am flipping through the channels mindlessly, looking for trash.
I figure the chances of trash are pretty good.
Flip, flip, flip, flip.
I sit and stare at the basketball wives for perhaps 20 minutes, and then the episode is over. I won’t be watching this show again. Twenty minutes turns out to be enough time for me to learn the key lesson this show is trying to impart:
Professional basketball players are perhaps not ideal candidates for long-term committed relationships.
Make a note.
Plus also? Duh.
Weird thing, though.
As I am watching this show, my eye is drawn to a woman named Tami. Feels like I know her from somewhere. Which is stupid, because I don’t follow basketball players at all, never mind the women they are fucking. Weird, though.
I stare at her.
She is planning on getting liposuction. She is not pleased with her back boobs.
She didn’t actually call them back boobs. My words.
She has three on each side, according to her doctor. He calls them “rolls,” but you can tell he is thinking back boobs. He is way squeeezy of them.
It is a teeny bit awkward, and Tami looks a little surprised at how happily handsy the doctor is getting with her flesh.
I love trashy reality TV.
So I am sitting there, watching Tami discuss how having these back boobs removed will make her more confident and appealing to men. She needs a new man because the professional basketball player she married? He turned out to be not exactly awesome as a husband.
See above for the takeaway message of this deeply educational show.
Back to the doctor squeezing at Tami’s back boobs. He is all reassuring. He can just suck these right away.
He will suck away the back boobs?
I am giggling and drinking a beer and wondering why Tami doesn’t just wire her mouth shut again.
Wait . . . what?
I look at Tami more closely.
Oh my god, people. It’s Tami! Tami from the second season of Real World way back in 1993. Tami of the drama and the tears and the fighting and the wiring her mouth shut to lose a few pounds! Tami!
How you been, girl? I haven’t seen you in like 17 years!
And yes, people. That does mean I have been watching trashy reality shows for a very long time. Hush.
Hold on . . . let me Google.
What the hell, babe? Homeless? Food stamps? Really?
“MARK! I am all geniusy in here! Come check it out!”
Mark walks into the room, “What’s up?”
I explain the situation and close with, “So don’t you think that is awesome? I am just staring at this woman’s face and I know that I know her! I haven’t seen her face in 17 years, but I recognized her! It’s Tami from Real World! I am awesome!”
Mark pats me on the head, “That’s impressive, alright.”
“It is impressive! I have a mind like a steel trap! It’s fucking Tami! I remembered Tami! You cannot tell me that this is not an amazing demonstration of recall. Who is Tami to me? No one! But I remembered her!”
I take a triumphant sip of my beer as Mark stares at me.
He sits down to watch the closing credits and then wrest the remote control from my grip.
He puts on some crappy show . . . Mark has no taste . . . and then he turns to me, “Did you remember to iron Maj’s shirt?
“Her shirt. You said you would iron it this evening.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot. I’ll do it later.”
“You also said you would check on the girls at 10:00. You’re late.”
“Geez, I’m going. I’m going. And no, I did not forget to check on them. I am just teaching them about patience and delayed gratification.”
Mark snorts with laughter and turns his attention to his show, “Right.”
I head up to check on the girls. Maj looks up at me with doubtful eyes, “Did you remember to iron my shirt?”
“I haven’t done it yet, but it’s on my list. Don’t you worry about it.”
“I need it for tomorrow.”
“OK, Maj. I’m on it.”
Geez! Maj has no faith.
Except then there was this . . .
“Morning, Mother. Did you iron my shirt?”
Maj is not pleased, and she heads off to complain to Mark.
Kallan walks into the kitchen and watches me making her lunch, “Did you forget that today is pizza day at school? I don’t need a packed lunch.”
“Well, crap. Did you tell me this?”
Kallan pours herself some orange juice, “Every Wednesday, Mom. Duh.”
And then Mark and Maj are back. Maj all incredulous that I forgot to iron her shirt. Mark all incredulous that I forgot to iron her shirt. They are so dramatic! Kallan pipes up with the news that I forgot that Wednesday is pizza day, and that possibly I forgot that it was Wednesday altogether.
So fucking annoying.
There is finally silence and I stare at all of them.
I take a bite of what is now my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, “If my mouth was wired shut? This sandwich would be going to waste. Make a note.”