Dear John,
My parents always tell me I watched too much American television growing up, and that now I’m Lost and Clueless about The Real World because of it. Whatever, My Two Dads!
Here’s The Facts of Life, it’s been 48 Hours since I left the House because I was binge-watching The Golden Girls but tonight, I’m going to the Homeland Bar in The O.C. to watch Monday Night Football with my Friends Benson, Webster, Frasier, and Dexter. That’s a MAD Entourage, people. No Scrubs.
60 minutes later, we enter Homeland at Primetime and the place is Looney Tunes—Full House. We walk up to the hostess like, “Party of Five” and she says, “To Tell The Truth, it’s virtually Kim Possible to get a table right now.” We find out she’s a New Girl from Dallas so we ask, “Who’s the Boss here?” And the owner (a guy named Barney Miller) comes out. Benson smooth-talks him and Shazam! We get a table in The West Wing. The décor isn’t Beverly Hills 90210 and The View isn’t much to look at people-wise—mostly Freaks and Geeks and folks that look like Extras from Green Acres—but I have Big Love for the place right away because I can tell there’s a happy Medium here between Real People and Workaholics who are Drawn Together by the common search for Good Times and Happy Days. Plus, there are lots of TV screens in our section, which is Solid Gold.
We start boozing and not two minutes after kickoff, Frasier starts talking about Parenthood. He’s a Family Guy. Married … With Children—The Hogan Family. Poor Jackass. Then his wife Maude calls and tells him to come home. “My So-Called Life,” he says and he splits, but Life Goes On for the rest us because it’s Felicity hour (Amen) and The Price Is Right on food and drinks. We order CHiPs and dip, Fish tacos, Bob’s Burgers, Sliders, and 24 Wings. By halftime, there’s nothing left but a pile of Bones.
After the culinary Bonanza it’s time for me to make Howdy Doody so I go to the bathroom and drop a Murphy Brown. I wash up with some Soap and water and check myself in the mirror. “KaBlam!” I cry, observing my bloated gut. “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant. I should’ve had The Soup.”
Back at the table, The Talk has turned to The Dating Game. “Rhoda, Reba, and Roseanne are always DTF,” declares a Shameless Webster with Glee, “but Ellen from The Office refuses to sleep with me. I think she’s The L Word.”
“You mean a taco bumper?!” says one of the Politically Incorrect Girls Behaving Badly at the table next to us. These two Perfect Strangers—thirtysomething Girls who are drunk as shit—introduce themselves as Alice and Moesha and tell us they have no money to pay for their tab. Benson and Webster are so Bewitched by these 2 Broke girls that they pick up their check and eventually go home with them. Can you believe that? Leave It To Beaver to mess up our Sports Night brodown.
After they leave, Dexter starts Breaking Bad about his 9 to 5 and how he’s slowly dying One Day At A Time and it quickly puts my inebriation in Jeopardy. What’s Happening!! Just Shoot me! I look for the server to Rescue Me from The Twilight Zone and out of nowhere, my phone rings. Saved By The Bell!
“Family Feud,” I tell Derrick, “Mama’s Family.” And I take the call outside, but it’s really my cousin Freddie, a school teacher whose Moonlighting as my life Coach. “I’m in jail again,” he tells me. “Can you spring me?”
“Get A Life,” I reply. “Head of the Class my ass!” I hang up and when I get back inside, Dexter is Gone and what was once our table is now occupied by Two Guys and a Girl. I hit the bar for one more Stella but According To Jim the bartender, “Eight Is Enough. One more and you’ll end up in the ER, or Six Feet Under.” That’s So Raven. Gimme a Break!
I step outside all shit-faced and there are COPS patrolling everywhere. “Father Knows Best,” I think to myself. “I shoulda left with Frasier.” I Get Smart and hail a Taxi. Yes, Cash Cab sucks compared to Uber but it’s coming down to The Wire—I gotta get home in time to watch Here Comes Honey Boo Boo!
Cheers!
Love,
American Style
p.s. that’s an Alias. My Name Is Earl (a.k.a Pablo)