Wednesday, 3 October 2012


Guards! Find me a bathroom!

CreStock Photos

(Just as he told me he'd be . . . )

Gossip websites are sizzling with speculation that Chris Brown and Rihanna "hooked up" last night. And I don't know what they're "speculating" about, because it's pretty damn obvious what's going on here. I mean, let's examine the evidence.

Monday night: Rihanna and Chris Brown show up at the same NYC nightclub. Brown spots Rihanna and “climbs over two tables" to get to her, peels off his shirt and starts “dancing on the table" for her. The two start “dirty dancing and kissing and being very smitten,” a source tells
Later Monday night: Hormones whipped to fever pitch by all the dirty dancing and shirt-removing, the two reportedly lock themselves in a bathroom together for 30 minutes while two bodyguards guard the door.
Still later Monday night (or more accurately, early Tuesday morning): Chris leaves club at 3:50 a.m. Rihanna makes pointless attempt at nonchalance by leaving "a few moments later."
Tuesday evening: Paparazzi catch Chris sneaking out of the Gansevoort Park Hotel in NYC, the very hotel Rihanna is staying at. (And I hope he took a shower while he was there because I'm still haunted by that "30 minutes-in-public-bathroom" image.)

Well, I don't think there's a parent alive who can't figure out EXACTLY what is happening here. As any of us who has ever had or been a teenager knows, the surest way to drive two kids together is to try to keep them apart. (And that, kids, is the real reason we make you read those stultifying Shakespeare plays in high school. Not because we hope you'll one day start saying "droppeth" and "Hie thee hither," but because we want you to learn from history. Romeo and Juliet? Yeah, that didn't end well, for anyone.)
Anyway, Riri and Chris are getting so much blowback and tsk-tsking about their forbidden flirtations that it is literally making them crazy for each other. 
SHE is clearly not seeing seeing the face-pummelling brute we all remember, and HE, well I don't know what he's seeing but it probably has something to do with booty shorts and tattooed breasts. 
Meanwhile, we are goading them on with our frowning, clucking, Amish disapproval. 
So what I'm suggesting is, let's just stop disapproving. 
Let's stop giving these two rebels a cause. Let's all hold hands as a society and say, "Hey you two, why don't you move in together! With our blessing! Heck, maybe even get married! No, really. We WANT you to!" 
After that, I give them six weeks, maybe two months. 
Because nothing dampens a rebel's passion like permission. 

Editor's note: I wonder if that would really work.
My note: Well it worked for me and my three ex-husbands.