Tuesday, October 09, 2007
My momma always said, "Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."
A bartender I don't like at all once compared me to Forrest Gump. He doesn't know me, and I prefer that our paths never cross. If he knew what would most likely happen, I'm sure he would feel the same. But I believe that he was trying to say I was like Forrest as the guy always trying to rescue a certain someone the bartender has known in the Biblical sense. Forrest's Jenny didn't want to be saved. She did everything she could to avoid it, in fact, and, at least in the book, and the movie too, Jenny was a real slut.
But Jenny was a slut with a good heart. Only when it was too late did she realize what she kept running away from and why. So the bartender's reference point of the story of Forrest Gump has some perilous analogies. If he really knew the detail, he would probably realize there was more Jenny in his remark than there was Forrest.
What angers me now enraged me once, especially because he and I were both painfully aware of Jenny's condition, is that Jenny continues to enjoy indulging her fantasies and fetishes, seemingly without any concern for the consequences. Ask her and she might even admit she feels more free now than ever in her life, because she thinks nobody cares and nobody will try to stop her. These little indulgences, which she tells herself are simply harmless, sexy costume fantasies, whether with her Prince Charming or someone else, are in fact the same kind of high-risk activity that got her in trouble before, although it now involves a different kind of risk.
Before, she might have considered the risk to her health, mental and psychological, but didn't. She might have considered the risk of being tossed out of room and board. Now, it seems, that no longer matters either. The analogy to Forrest Gump's story breaks down at that point, though, because Forest is disinclined to welcome Jenny back into his life.
So, Forrest's Momma was right. Life often is like a box of chocolates. You have to eat whatever you pull out.
Sometimes you DO know what you're gonna get, and you go ahead and take it anyway, don't you?
I show my age when I reflect on the sweets we used to buy at the general store when I was a kid. One I remember is the Sugar Daddy, caramel suckers that cost just two cents each in those days and lasted a very long time. Besides being sweet, they were almost guaranteed to help with extraction of baby molars.
The candy name, as far as I can tell, has nothing at all to do with the painful (for both, eventually) relationship between a Sugar Daddy and a Sugar Babe. It’s one thing to go out with guys who don't seem to have enough money to even pay for the coffee or condoms, let alone a love hotel or roses. And it's quite another to be in a relationship where the guy pays for literally everything – everything from room and board and cute little costumes to shoes and clothes and undies and ear piercing and Brazilian waxes and medical care.
But why stop there? A girl who realizes she is sitting on a gold mine doesn't have to dream of a Sugar Daddy who will do it all without complaining, sometimes several times a day. She can find one on what was probably the first of several similar personal dating sites: http://www.sugardaddyforme.com/. The site pairs nubile young ladies who want a lover, an extramarital fling or just to be pampered and shown off, with wealthy, caring older men of means. For the young lady who wants to be treated like a princess, this simple link to the oyajis who have it all looks a lot more promising than the other casual dating sites. For one thing, it is upfront about its matchmaking without being too sleazy.
Fling with bling? Well, having thrown all the other cautions to the wind and still having a few good years to go, why not? After all, life is like a box of chocolates, isn't it?
A little chocolate never hurt anybody, did it?