It's like they were meant to be friends, Mel Gibson and Gerard Butler. Picture it -- both sweaty and red-faced, both spray spit when they talk, both ...leer. Now they get to leer together. Which is a fantasy for some women and for others, like me, is straight up gross. Can you imagine the two of them breathing all over you at the bar, asking if you'd be down with a double motorboat? Me, I probably wouldn't have much to worry about, seeing as I'm unmistakeably Asian and therefore ethnically unworthy of Mel's attraction. How would it work though if one were racially preferred?
Would Gerry warm it up for Mel, or would Mel go in first, the smell of whiskey wafting out of his mouth, a tuft of chest hair growing just under a red neck, above a shirt unbottoned to his cleavage, asking if you come here often?
There's a great line in Crazy, Stupid, Love delivered by the girl who plays Emma Stone's best friend. Her name escapes me now. But she's on the phone with Emma, telling her to come out to the club, when she's approached by a man who clearly has no chance. With a finger pointed to the exit sign, she stops him before he starts:
"In what world???"
If only that were true. In this world, we make it too easy for the Mels and the Gerrys.
