It recently dawned on me that I haven’t blogged in a minute. Not that you care, just making an observation. But, with the holidays just around the corner and a sudden influx of pregnancies and engagement announcements flooding my Facebook and Twitter timelines since Thanksgiving, I thought it may be time for a little self-evaluation. Isn’t the holiday season grand?
As much as I enjoy my freedom, I’m turning 35 today (yes, today, December 4th is my actual birthday) and I wouldn’t mind eventually becoming part of the obnoxious baby-boomers club. Not today because I plan on getting wasted later to celebrate another year of unused eggs but eventually.
I come from divorced parents and I know what you’re thinking – “She’s so lucky. She gets TWO Christmases!” But believe me when I tell you it isn’t fun as much as it is an exercise in extreme time management. Yet, when people aren’t gushing over the idea of getting double the oversized pj’s and knitted socks, people are dissecting my current and perpetual “available” status and the subject of the afore mentioned divorce inevitably comes up. But, I would like to put that theory to rest as I’ve seen way more unhappy married couples than I ever have divorced.
Here is the real reason behind my self-imposed solitude:
Seriously, have you ever watched an episode of Dateline? That shit is terrifying!
In any given day, at any given time, at anywhere in the world, an episode of Dateline is airing. It’s a fact. And what exactly is it about this particular show that contributes to my lack of emotional commitment? Let me explain…
For starters, in 2004, Chris Hanson brought us Dateline’s To Catch a Predator series. In short, and for anyone not familiar, very young looking 18+ year old girls and boys were used as decoys to lure in unsuspecting older men looking for a little underage tail on the side. If (or shall I say when) the conversation turned sexual, the decoys would invite them over. Once inside the delightful Mr. Hanson would ask them to have a seat and question them on why they felt it appropriate to ask a 13 year old girl if she masturbated and if she wanted him to stick his blank in her blank.
Naturally, all the men, (and I only say men because a) no woman would be stupid enough to get caught doing dumb shit like that and b) only men ever ended up taking the bait and showing up to the house with cold McDonald’s French fries and lube) had never done anything like this before, were only there to talk, and this was their first time coming over to the house of someone they thought to be underage. True story, just ask CanIRapeUAnally (Actual. Fucking. Screen name).
Aside from the obvious, why do I find this so completely disheartening? Because 90% of these men were married. Yes, married. Most even had kids. At home, some poor wife was playing Bejeweled and Angry Birds while her husband was trying to seduce a 12 year old with wine coolers.
Several law suits screaming entrapment and a District Attorney’s suicide later and the show was eventually cancelled. Too bad, that was some solid journalism right there.
To Catch a Predator aside, here are just a few show descriptions for other Dateline episodes that have aired recently or are set to air which just reinforce the reason behind my fear of matrimony:
“Wealthy woman orders a hit on her estranged husband; she is arrested before anyone is hurt.”
“A mother of three who was killed on a lonely dirt road just a mile from her home.”
“Husband is shot while hunting; wife says she accidentally mistook him for a bear, but police learn the marriage was less than perfect.”
“The latest in the story of Drew Peterson, who has been found guilty of murdering his ex-wife.”
“A family feud erupts between a man’s wife and step-daughter after the wealthy heir to Miami’s Fontainebleau Hotel is murdered.”
“A wife and mother of two who was found dead in her car in Grosse Pointe Park, Mich., and how her husband’s secret life makes the police suspect that he may have been involved in the murder.”
“A man accused of murdering a prostitute in 2003. His wife recently testified against her husband and revealed that he confessed the murder to her before threatening her into silence.”
Need I say more?
So, mom, dad, if you’re reading this, it wasn’t you that fucked me up, it was my fascination with NBC and all things Dateline. Chris Hanson and Lester Holt sure have some explaining to do.