In the hopes of catching up for tonight’s season finale, Lrudlrick and I have spent all weekend watching 6 hours of ‘24’. Needless to say, my brain is fried. I’ve never wanted to bitch slap my television screen more than this past weekend. BTW, am I the only who thinks President Logan looks like a skinny Nixon?
Anyway, since I’ve still got one more ep before tonight’s two hour bonanza, I’m using my free time to bring my tortured brain back to reality. You know, pay the bills, do some work, eat.
We finally went to bed at 3am. I turned over to try to get some shut eye. I begin the workday math. Hmm, if I sleep hard now and get a large coffee, skip the bagel and change the meeting to a quick conference call, I think I can make it through the day without passing out. Then I hear it, the sound of digital ticking. Then the velvety rough voice, “Last time on 24…”
L: You’re going to sleep?
pg: Dude, I have to work tomorrow.
L: There is one more episode.
In my head I was saying, “It’s 3am.” However, the message didn’t pass through the synapses fast enough because the next thing I know my alarm went off.
Watching the Los Angeles Counter Terrorism Unit at work for hours upon hours has taught Lrudlrick and I some valuable lessons.
1. Lrudlrick could never be part of any tactile unit: field operations or systems end. His lack of direction and spatial relations would be a detriment and a safety hazard to the entire team. “Stop telling me it’s north by northwest. Is it next to the big tree on the right hand side?”
2. Pantrygirl could never be part of any tactile unit: field operations or systems end. Firstly, every single woman in ‘24’ has been tortured. Some have been raped. Some have been killed. Those that survive suffer irreparable damage to their psyche thusly affecting their personal relationships. Those who haven’t been tortured, raped or killed (Hi, Chloe) have serious social skill issues that crown them Ms. Loner at lunchtime.
Secondly, I really hate torture. I’d squeal like a pig in a Chinese restaurant.
I can see the appeal of Jack Bauer to a woman, though. Sure, the risk to your life jumps up tenfold if you date him but how safe must it feel knowing that Jack Bauer is your boyfriend. Anyone tries to mess with you is a dead person. What power! “What do you mean my laundry isn’t ready yet? Jack!”
Of course, there is the downside. The long work hours. The constant threat of danger. The expensive cell phone bills. The incredibly filthy laundry. The cancelled dinner plans. Oh, and certain death.
