Make it stop. Again.

NY ppl, skip this post. That's not some reverse psychology to tempt you to read it. Just leave, now, before I ruin our friendship forever.

Canadian people, I want you to watch this. And then I want you to watch it fifty more times. This blog is about my life in New York, and no account of that would be complete without this adorable fucking ad. It comes on at every commercial break, and from the first beckon of its Raggaeton beats, Marianne loses her train of thought, and slowly turns her attention to the tv. She stands there, engrossed, the dish she is still holding now dripping suds on the hardwood floor. Her ears beseech the way the rapper calls her mi hefe, and every time he drops the end of the word "five". She's seen it so many times that it's been etched into her consciousness, like the movies she and her brother used to watch almost daily as children (Ghostbusters, the Neverending Story, Return of the Jedi), and yet she manages to abduct a new detail every time. Like the fact that the way the women run from the pirates implies that they were laying with their heads to the ocean, rather than their feet.



When the ad ends, she returns to herself. Slightly embarrassed, she takes possession of her surroundings, puts the dish back in the sink, and wipes the floor with her sock. She silently thanks God, once again, that she lives alone.