I just watched the movie "Mamma Mia." I have one question for the casting director.
Were you on crack? Acid? I'm really trying to understand why you would cast actors who can't sing. Were you aware that this is a musical?
And to you actors - hasn't anyone told you that being a famous actor doesn't necessarily mean that you can sing? I was the most upset about Pierce Brosnan. He is a very bad singer.
During college, I had a huge crush on Pierce Brosnan. He's soooo handsome and suave. I always watched Remington Steele. I even lost a boyfriend to him once. (Bear with me. This is gonna take a while.)
It was 1985. I was in my last year of college. One night my friends and I went to Denver to go to a bar (we were in Boulder so that's quite a trip - 36 miles). We took a quick tour through the bar to just to see, umm, the scenery. Upon seeing a VERY cute guy, we looked at each other with the silent "he's cute" look.
While on our second tour (we just wanted to be thorough), the Cute Guy asked me to dance. I said no. Not because he wasn't cute. We've already established that he was VERY cute . But it was rock music. I can't dance to rock music. I can only do R&B and I didn't want to humiliate myself no matter how cute he was.
My friends would not take no for an answer. So I finally gave in and danced with this ridiculously cute guy that every girl in the bar wanted to dance with (Woe is me!)
Cute Guy asked for my number. I gave it to him. He called. And we set up a time for a date. Exciting, huh? (This is where it gets fun.)
It's 6 a.m. on the day of the aforementioned date. I get a call from my uncle in Chicago that my sister (not Charmaine - but the sister we don't speak of) had tried to commit suicide. She was in the hospital in Boulder and I needed to go get her. Since I didn't have a car, one of my roommates dropped me off at the hospital. I was instructed in no uncertain terms to take her home, clean up the blood so that she wouldn't see it, and never leave her alone.
(Did anyone there know that I was 20 years old - and I had classes to go to - and that my mother was in Chicago - and that my sister had physically attacked me the night before in my apartment tearing my robe into shreds and scaring the crap out of my roomates - and more importantly, I had a first date planned with Cute Guy?
We get in the house and the first thing she does is make a bee-line to the bathroom - the scene of the attempt. Crap. I screwed up the first instruction. I tried to remain calm, but I was pretty sure my failure was going to result in her death. I set about to clean the bathroom as quickly as possible. There was a lot of blood. I don't like blood.
My mother, under the sage advice of her two psychiatrist brothers, decided not to come home early. Didn't she know that I didn't want to be responsible for my sister's life (especially since I didn't like her) and I had Cute Guy coming over our first date? And he was coming from Denver? And I didn't have his number?
My cousin came over so I wouldn't have to stand-up Cute Guy. He arrives. (Did I mention that he was VERY cute?) The first thing I had to say to him was that I couldn't stay out long, because my sister tried to kill herself and I had to get back so she wouldn't do it again.
He was unfazed so we headed out to the Pearl Street Mall, but, first, he had to stop at an ATM. He pulls into the entrance to the bank, but there is a car in front of us that is stopped. Then that car starts backing up and backs right into Cute Guy's car. A very large man gets out of the car (I forgot to mention that Cute Guy is on the short side.)
The man leaves the scene of the accident.
Again, unfazed, we continue on to a bar, where we had one drink. But duty calls. He drives me to my mother's house to supervise my sanity-challenged sister. He and I continue our first date in the kitchen.
My mother returns (from her planned flight). She walks in the door saying loudly, "Whose piece of shit car is in my driveway?" Cute Guy answers that it's his. I was a little embarrassed.
I expected my mother to immediately go upstairs and see my sister.
She was too concerned that this "piece of shit" car would leak oil on her driveway.
Cute Guy and I head back to my apartment. He walks me to my door (Did I mention that my apartment was two houses away from an adult book store?) He sweetly kisses me goodbye and walks.
I'm thinking I am never going to see this guy again. He called. No, I'm not kidding. Clearly he didn't pick up on the blatant insanity of my life.
He works full-time in Denver. I'm in school full-time and working 2 jobs in Boulder. So we talk on the phone a lot. (Here it comes.)
It was time for finals. I told him ahead of time that I get very stessed during finals and get a bit weird. Then, one night when he called, I told him I couldn't talk because I was watching Remington Steele.
I never heard from Cute Guy again.
One night my friends went back to that bar (I had to work). Cute Guy was there. He told my friend that he was mad that I wanted to watch Remington Steele rather than talk to him. I don't get it. He stuck around after that absurd first date, but he couldn't take that?
Thanks a lot Pierce. And now to add injury to insult, I find out you aren't anything like Remington Steele!