Romance is dead.
It’s more than just dead. It died, was resuscitated at the last-minute, then shot in the face by the resuscitator. It was buried in a grave with no fanfare, no recognition.
Gone are the days of true romantic gestures being fashioned by men after going to great length to meet that one lost person who has caught his eye. They have been replaced with Facebook messages and sexting. It would be nice if a person would bring back the original romantic gesture.
It simply is not possible, though. Romance is truly dead. If you don’t believe me, take into account this story.
On October 22nd, Evagelina Paredes was pulled over for speeding in Chicago. While most police officers would have seen a reckless, terrible driver who refuses to abide by the rules of the road, Officer Chris Collins saw something else: love.
After ticketing Paredes and sending her on her way, Collins could not remove Cupid’s arrow from his buttocks. He was still hooked on Paredes. He longed to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. Unfortunately, the big stupid-head forgot to get Paredes’ address or phone number.
“Wait just a gol’ durn second,” Collins said to himself. “I may not have directly asked for her information so that I can pursue wooing her, but I do happen to have her information right here in my ticketing book. How could I use this to my advantage?”
After roughly 2-3 weeks, a brilliant inspiration struck Collins upside the head like a pillowcase full of soda cans. If he had her address, which he did indeed have, he could send her a note. Collins sat down and racked his brain for the perfect words. Inspiration struck and suddenly the words poured from his fingertips to the piece of paper.
The perfection of his written words was so great, he was nearly blinded:
“It’s Chris … that ugly bald Stickney cop who gave you that ticket. … I know this may seem crazy and you’re probably right, but truth is I have not stopped thinking about you since. I don’t expect a girl as attractive as you to … even go for a guy like me, but I’m taking a shot anyways.
“I did cost you $132 – least I can do is buy you dinner.”
Collins drove to the address he had carefully jotted down. He jumped out of his car and placed it on the windshield of, what I assume was, a bright red Mini Cooper. Paredes spied the note as she approached her car. She opened it and was immediately moved like most women would be, quickly grabbing her jacket, jumping into her Mini Cooper, and driving to the police station to be swept up in Collins’ arms.
Just kidding. She sued him.
This action has practically been the plot of nearly 95% of date night movies since the mid 1960’s. Just like that, though, Paredes crushed the dreams of billions upon billions of women under her evil, love hating foot. Sure, Collins probably didn’t look like Hugh Grant, but his gesture was so creepily romantic that, based on movie knowledge, she should immediately swoon over him.
Now love has died, the romantic gesture has been slaughtered by a woman, all because she thought he “violated her right to privacy.” What a baby. Dozens of women have their privacy violated in summer movies every year and they only briefly complain before being swept up in the romance and sculpted, rock hard abs that the leading man brings to the table.
There is nothing Paredes can do to make up for this. The end of romance has arrived thanks to her.
You know the part of romantic comedies where the two are initially attracted, then the woman hates the guy, then the guy has some declaration that is so great, the woman has no choice but to love him forever, or at least for the last 15 minutes of the movie? Maybe, just maybe, this could happen:
Judge: Well, Mr. Collins, what do you have to say for yourself?
Chris Collins: Nothing, your honor. (Entire courtroom gasps) I have nothing to say, except this: I’ve pulled over hundreds of women. Every day, a new woman. You know what, judge? This woman is the only one I’ve remembered. There’s a reason for that. When it’s right, it’s right. I’m sure you can understand this judge. Surely once you did something crazy to show you love someone. (Judge looks towards the back of courtroom, remembering a long-lost love.)
Now, all I can think about is this woman. I want to walk with her, see movies with her, go to the store with her. Mostly, though, I just want to be with her. Who’s going to tell me that that’s wrong? Well, judge, if you find it necessary, rule in her favor. Just know that no matter what you decide, I won’t stop loving her. I can’t stop loving her. What can I say? I guess sometimes a speeding ticket leads to something bigger… (Entire courtroom bursts into applause. The judge, tears in his eyes, slams the gavel down while declaring the suit over. Evagelina Paredes rushes into the arms of Chris Collins and the two embrace.)
If this suit does not end this way, I’ll never forgive Paredes. More importantly, Hugh Grant, Katherine Heigl, and Matthew McConaughey will never forgive. If actions like this persist, the entire Rom/Com genre of film will completely die.
Please, Paredes, for the love all that is good in the world, drop the lawsuit. Love, and more importantly Matthew McConaughey’s career, depends on it.