I'm sorry I insisted on getting Towelhead that night on pay-per-view. I know it's been months and we promised never to speak of the incident ever again, but I feel like we've all had some time to process it and I need to break the silence. We were all violated, okay? We were all betrayed. This was the description that HBO gave us of the movie:
This coming-of-age tale follows the topsy-turvy life of Jasira, a 13-year-old Arab-American girl wrestling with the challenges of adolescence, bigotry and life with an overbearing father.
It sounds so benign. Maybe a little depressing. At worst a cinematic Catcher In the Rye with brown people. And we're all brown, right? It seems so up our alley. Oh and Allan Ball! How could it not be good?
We should have listened to the Time Warner representative when the pay-per-view busted out and we were on hold for like 25 minutes and then he sounded kind of judgemental and asked us if we knew that it had R-rated material. We scoffed at him and tried to get a free month of cable as indemnity for the natural resistance of our cable box to go there. We didn't take it as a sign. We were filled with hubris. We were ready to enter the lion's den.
In our fucking pajamas eating pizza and drinking wine. We were like Nero, playing his lute or lyre or whatever-the-fuck instrument people played during that time while Rome was burning. We had no idea what we were in for. None of us. I would speak in greater detail about the actual violation but the truth is I still don't know if I'm ready. Maybe in a few more years, when we have a survivor's group, because I still don't feel emotionally safe discussing it.
So I'm sorry. I'm sorry that this is something we have to carry with us for the rest of our lives. I, for one, will never be able to look at Aaron Eckhart the same way ever again. Or have sex, for that matter. I'm sorry for all the shame and hurt. I'm sorry you had to see me in a foetal position on the floor moaning, "Make it go away."
Next time, we'll rent 13 Going on 30.
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Apology accepted.
ReplyDeleteI did not suffer much permanent damage. Sure my daughter will never talk an adult man until she is married... but I'm okay.
Though I wasn't there, I feel like I was. This takes me back to the not-so-distant past when I decided to watch Savage Grace. Alone. No pizza. No wine. I don't know if I'll ever be able to utter the word 'oedipal' again.
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