Remember the other day, when I gave Sam some much needed sanity points for being the only person in Jason’s life not acting like a TOTAL EFFING FREAK about Brenda? (Yes, Carly and Spinelli, I am looking at you.)
Well, I’m afraid there’s been a sanity recall.
You see, Michael’s feeling a wee bit insecure about his sexual inexperience, and he wants Jason to hire him an escort to walk him through it, so to speak. Let’s hear what Jason thinks about that, shall we?
JASON: I just think he needs to take it slow, that’s all. Just slow.
SAM: But Jason, he is asking for your help. And if you don’t he’s going to go out and do it on his own. Do you want that?
JASON: No. I just think this whole thing’s a bad idea!
SAM: I know this girl. Her name is Candy. I worked with her under cover. She’s going to college. She’s trying to do the right thing. Jason, she just may be the perfect girl for Michael.
CRAZY SAYS WHAT? Ah, yes. A girl he has to pay to touch him, whose only purpose is to be a human punching bag he won’t feel bad about taking his PTSD issues out on. Sounds like the perfect, emotionally healthy choice to me!
Look, far be it for me to take Jason’s side on just about anything. But he seems to be the only person on Team Sanity, aka Team Abstinence, at the moment. So I’m going to take the unprecedented step of saying: WORD, MORGAN.
Hey, here’s a thought! Is there some reason why Michael can’t just… not have sex? Until, you know, he actually feels like it? Or, at least until being touched by other human beings doesn’t make him want to punch them? I mean, GOD FORBID he work through his sexual trauma by learning how to build an actual relationship of trust with a woman.
(Can you even imagine a storyline where a female rape victim went to a prostitute because she was afraid of having sex with someone she cared about? Of course not! Because all female rape victims on soap operas are “saved” by the tender love of a good man, who proves his worthiness by having the patience to wait and take things as slow. When young men get close to sexual assault in Port Charles — even if only by proxy, like Lucky after Elizabeth was attacked — apparently the only solution is to head straight to a hooker.)
But maybe I’m wrong! Maybe this story will turn out to be a thoughtful commentary on the pressure society places on men to show no weakness and to prove themselves sexually. Maybe Michael will get a slow, tender romance of his own with an understanding partner whose love makes him feel safe and allows him to heal–
Oh, stop laughing.
Reason number eight hundred and fifty-seven why Alexis is made of awesome: she is a master of minimalist snark.
CLAIRE: Look, I’m well aware of all the women that Sonny has been with, but our relationship is different.
ALEXIS: Good luck with that.
Speaking of Claire, if the above absurdity didn’t make it abundantly clear… girlfriend has lost her ever-loving mind. And then some. She has also regressed to the maturity level of a fifteen year old, judging by this dreadful business, which gave me contact embarrassment even on fast forward:
(I hereby apologize to any fifteen year olds who might be reading this — that was a low blow and I’m sure you are WAY more mature than Claire Walsh.)
Fortunately, Sonny is too much of a computer illiterate to be properly horrified at receiving a serious proposition in Comic Sans. In fact, he seemed hilariously baffled by the entire concept of fonts. Or maybe just of word processing in general:
SONNY: How’d you get it to do that?
CLAIRE: What do you mean? I’m a woman of many talents.
You’re certainly a woman of many personalities!
Today, of course, Claire got her inevitable comeuppance for falling, like so many women before her, into Sonny’s dimpled trap. I wish I could say it was particularly satisfying, but the truth is that I waited through all of Sonny and Brenda’s overwrought angsting at each other yesterday in the hopes that something soapy might actually happen. But instead of Claire marching in and catching them in the act, she missed Brenda completely, and all I got for my trouble was a half-hearted, stuttering, BORING Sonny brush off.
Not exactly the entertaining schadenfreude I’d been hoping for.
I’m sure that now we’re supposed to see Claire as an evil woman scorned who is persecuting Sonny unfairly. But since he’s still, you know… A CAREER CRIMINAL, and since her decision to stop prosecuting him in the first place was completely nonsensical and insulting, I really can’t get worked up about it. Except that now we can look forward to more endless, pointless legal maneuvering, followed by everyone in town lining up to talk about how oppressed Sonny is.
I kind of want to vomit just thinking about it.
And finally, a brief comment concerning Maxie. Specifically… this:
Incandescentflower: I have no idea what climbed on top of Kristen Storms’ head, but it was frightening.
Tenillypo: OMG, I was thinking the exact same thing. But then I was like… I just did a snarky hair post. I can’t do another one so soon, damnit!
Incandescentflower: Apparently Johnny’s apartment is a magnet for awful hair.
Tenillypo: It’s a vortex of bad hair.
Incandescentflower: It draws these awful hair choices to it!
Tenillypo: It’s a bad hair black hole!
Incandescentflower: And yet Olivia looks lovely.
Tenillypo: Maybe Olivia is like a hair vampire. She sucks the attractiveness out of other people’s hair and feeds it into her own.
Olivia’s expression in that cap makes it seem like she, too, is wondering why someone who works in the fashion industry is walking around in public with a mullet full of bad roots. RIGHT THERE WITH YOU, LIV.
(Don’t you love, by the way, the fact that Maxie spent an entire week hyperventilating all around town about how worried she was for Robin. But now that Robin’s been found, the writers couldn’t be bothered to throw in a single scene where she found out she was okay? So effing typical.)
And on that note, I’ll end by saying that Patrick and Robin’s scenes today were painful but pitch-perfect, and I don’t have a single snarky thing to say about them. It’s a Tuesday miracle!