Commercial Fiction
Sap alert: there are commercials I hate because they're really freaking horrible like the Chrysler Pacifica hot pregnant moms out on the town or the Crumbelievable Kraft cheese chunks with the bastardized EMF song, but then there are commercials I hate because they so transparently tug at your heart strings even though you know better. Those Zales (I mean, c'mon, Zales?) ads where the guy is getting up the nerve to propose (though they currently only seem to be showing the one where a guy gives a woman earrings) with David Bowie's "Pressure" playing is one such nuisance. The current contender is that Cingular commercial (this is a longer version than what is running on TV) where the guy keeps checking his phone hoping that the girl/woman he just met is going to call him later like she said she would. As if this scenario has any basis in reality. I don't know any guys (well, not guy guys) who get all moony and fixated like this. It's an invention developed to target female customers (or are men meant to identify with this unsure protagonist?). I give this fictional twosome two months tops. I refuse to be tricked and wouldn't buy a cell phone anyway, but whenever this ad comes on it hypnotizes me and induces senseless wistfulness. I don't want to have feelings about fake scenarios on television. Enough sap. I feel much better about all the drunk babies in the news lately. Well, toddler and kindergartener, but close enough. You always remember your first Applebee's Long Island ice tea.
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