Coming To America.....

The year that this film was released, I had a girlfriend who liked to go out with me, but only when she planned it & was in control of the date. On one week-end night, I was supposed to go see Joy Luck Club with her, but since it was at my suggestion, she, as always, phoned me to tell that she felt like maybe she was (conveniently) coming down with something. Now don't get me wrong, she wanted us to see this film, just not at my suggestion (I'll skip any psycho-analyzations as to why she was always like this).
Well I had finally had it, so I called her bluff, & told her that if there was a chance she'd get sick or somethin', we should just call the whole night off.
Before she could respond, I hung up the phone & then went to go see this movie by myself, more to piss her off than anything else.
By the time this stunningly moving, mother-daughter generation-crossing epic-fare was over, my hairy pimp-ass found it quite difficult to refrain from repeatingly dabbing at that "something in my eye" that seemed annoyingly persistent during the final two sob-strewn scenes. Because of my gf, there I was sitting alone in a theatre, effeminately misty-eyed over a god@mn chick-flick.
Right there & then, I knew that my relationship with my then-girlfriend was over.
Cuz no one makes me cry my own tears.
No one.



10/10