The Green Card ain’t no Valentine

This was supposed to be another boring night with nothing to do. The girls aka Tab, Kerri, and Sarah Beth were going to come by the apartment to watch some cheesy chick flick. I didn’t know about this till I get a text from Sarah Beth saying that they were over there while I was buying soap at Walmart. But anyways, back to the story:

The movie was typical chick flick, guy meets girl, girl marries guy so he can get green card, ie. french guy that is. They hate each other, but everybody loves him. He cooks, cleans, and writes music. This is the dream guy for every girl who watches chick flicks. The girls are so into this movie. The awws, and the “I wish i could find a guy to do that for me’ moments were all over this thing according to Bradley my roommate who is actually the main character in the story and had to tell me this after the fact to add more to the moment that I am currently setting up. Poor Bradley is suffering through this and I know every guy suffers through cheesy chick flicks. He takes it like a champ. I tip my cap to this guy, I would have left the room long ago. I would have talked under such torture.

Back to the movie, (I walk in about this part) They are taking some test that immigration is making them take some kind of test so they can see if they are really in love and all that jazz. But the guy makes it so obvious that he studied for the test. He failed the test so to speak.

Sometime in between here and where I’m going, it’s typical chick flick, they are falling in love. They are really in love and they meet and hug and the girls are waiting for the kiss and all that jazz. They are talking and all and here come the immigration guys. Watching them smooch all over themselves and they are just emotionless, oblivious to the climax that is oh so obvious to the female spectators. One of them commented “Can’t they see how much they love each other?” To which I responded, “Yup but politics and policy prevail.” He turns, she follows, “I write everyday”, says the guy. More tears…. more kissing… guy gets in the car and they drive away. “This CAN’T be the end!” exclaims Tabitha… then the dreaded four letter word shines across the screen…

CAST….

as the credits roll, me and Bradley look at each other hoping that the other just caught the glorious moment that just transpired. The look in his eyes was evident as we burst into cheers of jubilation and laughter as we roll on the floor in absolute hilarity. We just witnessed every single chick flick dream go up in smoke. The total desecration of what a chick flick should be had transpired before our eyes. Bradley and I could hardly keep ourselves together to explain ourselves and this glorious moment to our bewildered female onlookers. As much as we tried to explain this to them, they did not understand nor comprehend the moment. This was a victory for the guys. At least for us who have endured chick flick after chick flick in the name of pleasing the girls. All the things that guys have to fake was rewarded for a moment of genuine victory for every guy. Green Card was for me a reward. That not everything happens the typical way and that someone whether they knew it or not, if it wasn’t the producer then I will credit God for this moment but someone out there knew what guys wanted to happen in a chick flick and someone was generous enough to give it to us. Thank you whoever you are!

~ by timbrownlee on April 19, 2009.