Anyone else share this sentiment? It seems that everyday heroes are popping up everywhere these days. From Wesley Autrey to Hiro Nakamura it seems like everyone else is getting their fill of valiant efforts made by regular folks. But not me (well, maybe I get a little from Hiro, since he makes me laugh out loud every Monday night).
Sure I've had my brush with the amazing every so often. Take my normally lax superintendent for example. A small rodent, who I'll call Mickey, decided to invade my apartment a few weeks ago when I was gone for the weekend. London caught a glimpse of the little fellow and given her past history with these little creatures she wasn't having anything to do with them. When I came back to my apartment after a long relaxing weekend in the 'chester, I spotted sticky traps neatly lined in front of her door and strategically placed in the kitchen. I didn't even say hello.
London: Saturday night.
London: Under the couch and into my room
Me: Nooooooooooo! Not again! Sweet Jesus, not again.
Monday night, during the greatest night of TV ever, Mickey decided to come over, unannounced and uninvited. I watched her little brown bod scurry to his demise in one of London sticky traps. As he writhed around (I admit, I felt really bad, ya know, 'cause all God's creatures have a place in the choir) I screamed.
Me: It's in a trap!
Me: It's stuck...what do I do?
London: I don't know.
Me: EW EW EW It's looking at me!
London: Call the super.
Luckily, my phone was in my lap so I could avoid having to get up and face any of Mickey's friends. I called the super. I kid you not. The same man who told us to clean out our cabinets so he could fill the holes in our walls and then took 3 weeks to do anything about it. When I explained the problem he said, "I'll be right up." That night he became, in my bright hazel eyes, Super Super, my hero.
Flash to Paris, end of August, 2001. It's a late night. Jonesy has imbibed many glasses of French wine and a bottle of French beer that looked like a forty ounce (which she stole from a cabaret, the cabaret during which she yelled "DEEP THROAT IT!" to the sword swallower...oops.) Jonesy and a few others get separated from their tour group. One of the others is a girl from San Diego who has never drank before and decides to go up to random people on the street and ask for directions. One of these people, a surly looking French fellow decides to grab Jonesy and start taking her away from the group. Luckily, when I'm drunk, I'm very loud, so when I shouted "LET GO!" a member of the group, Boston College Dave (who did not attend BC) came running to her rescue and pulled out a pocket knife, almost like he was in The Outsiders. He was my SodaPop that night and I will never forget that.
Beyond that I got nothing. Nothing beyond what I see on TV. And what I see on TV is glorious. One hero for everyday of the week:
Titus Pullo and Marcus Veroneus on HBO's Rome. Both have killed for the women they love...HOT!
Totally trying to right wrongs done to their families and the women they love (RIP Veronica).
And let's face it, what lady doesn't mind that Linc the sink always has his top button undone?
Christopher Meloni, Law & Order: SVU. Angry cop with a temper. Also seen with full frontal on OZ as an angry prisoner with a temper. Either way, I'll take it.
Dr. Jack Shepard. Even though I have a love/hate relationship with Lost (which is more hate right now) but still, he's pretty. I would let him save me any day.
No need for words. P. Demps. So hot right now.
Basic cable hot: this guy from Psych. Very observant and funny. Reason enough to rethink going out on Friday nights.
Well, there really isn't any new TV on Saturday nights and lord knows I wouldn't let any of those messes on SNL save me. So I guess I'll have to be my own hero on Saturday nights, albeit a drunk one, but a hero nonetheless. Until I find a real one...