Passive
When I was a little girl, I used to have the corny, stereotypical, Cinderella dream of meeting prince charming, getting married and starting my own perfect family. This is what I used to see at the end of my videotaped fairytales. All stories ended with a wedding scene or a romantic kiss, but none stated what happened with the happy couple 20 years later.
No one wants to see prince charming walking through the doorstep of his castle (a representation of a rented tuna can apartment) with the same enthusiasm of a constipated person walking into a bathroom. He would say Hi to his beloved family in an automated voice, throw his bended figure on the couch infront of the TV, hold the remote control in one hand, his mobile phone in the other, close his eyes, open his mouth, and naps till it’s time to go to bed.
On good days, when his wife prepares dinner for him, takes it to the living room, and places it on the table facing the TV, he’s forced to stay awake. This is probably because he failed to create a strategy for chewing food in his sleep, or because eating is something that is worth putting an effort in. During such family gatherings the voice of prince charming is heard on three different occasions (listed according to frequency):
1- Telling his wife he forgot to do the chore she requested in the morning (and repeated over the phone at least twice during the day) because she didn’t remind him.
2- Swearing throughout an entire political talk show.
3- Answering calls on his mobile.
In fairytales, prince charming slays dragons, climbs towers, rides horses, and sweeps his lady off her feet with one passionate kiss. It’s only later, years later, that this lady realizes that the love of her life is a walking shadow of a man.
To him, she’s like the TV, entertaining when there’s nothing else to do, relaxing because with her he doesn’t need to put an effort, and comforting because he got used to having her around.
It’s only later, years later, that she’ll receive only packaged bouquets and only on major occasions.
It’s only later, years later, that she discovers masturbation, and finds more sentiment in a Kodak commercial than in their master bedroom.
It’s only later, years later, that she learns that her prince is moved by losing his keychain more than he is by another man’s lustful look at her.
It’s only later, years later, that she realizes that her prince has left their fairytale and started writing a story of his own.
No one wants to see prince charming walking through the doorstep of his castle (a representation of a rented tuna can apartment) with the same enthusiasm of a constipated person walking into a bathroom. He would say Hi to his beloved family in an automated voice, throw his bended figure on the couch infront of the TV, hold the remote control in one hand, his mobile phone in the other, close his eyes, open his mouth, and naps till it’s time to go to bed.
On good days, when his wife prepares dinner for him, takes it to the living room, and places it on the table facing the TV, he’s forced to stay awake. This is probably because he failed to create a strategy for chewing food in his sleep, or because eating is something that is worth putting an effort in. During such family gatherings the voice of prince charming is heard on three different occasions (listed according to frequency):
1- Telling his wife he forgot to do the chore she requested in the morning (and repeated over the phone at least twice during the day) because she didn’t remind him.
2- Swearing throughout an entire political talk show.
3- Answering calls on his mobile.
In fairytales, prince charming slays dragons, climbs towers, rides horses, and sweeps his lady off her feet with one passionate kiss. It’s only later, years later, that this lady realizes that the love of her life is a walking shadow of a man.
To him, she’s like the TV, entertaining when there’s nothing else to do, relaxing because with her he doesn’t need to put an effort, and comforting because he got used to having her around.
It’s only later, years later, that she’ll receive only packaged bouquets and only on major occasions.
It’s only later, years later, that she discovers masturbation, and finds more sentiment in a Kodak commercial than in their master bedroom.
It’s only later, years later, that she learns that her prince is moved by losing his keychain more than he is by another man’s lustful look at her.
It’s only later, years later, that she realizes that her prince has left their fairytale and started writing a story of his own.
posted by boubeyeh at 1:59 AM
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