11:46 pm, I get a text that reads:
“Oh my god. I could watch Frasier for my entire life.”
You’d think that this close to midnight my text messaging would be limited to emergencies, but it’s not. I get this first text because “(I’m) just the only one who would care, or pretend to.” Thankfully I’m awake. I can’t deny it though, I’m intrigued. She’s dragged me from whatever I’m doing into conversation.
“The show with Kelsey Grammar (sp) that’s already ended?”
“Yes, the spinoff of Cheers. It’s awesome.”
But I won’t recount the entire conversation, I wouldn’t let you read the private correspondence between me and my pen pals, would I? Actually, I might, but that’s not my point. You wouldn’t read them or ask to read them unless they were already in front of you, save if you discovered them after I’m dead… which I’m not.
The next show in MYQ2’s schedule is Will & Grace. The personalities involved are different, but a similar dynamic exists, it’s too appropriate to miss. I leave the comfort of my bed to watch.
We text through the entire episode, commenting on things like Will’s hair and Karen’s voice. We come to a consensus, Will and Grace should have gotten together at the end of the series. Maybe not as a couple, but they should have ended up together. The other consensus, Jack and Karen need to get married, they’re “both so gay that they’re almost straight.”
And then she goes to bed. It’s the quiet moments we share that I enjoy so much. I stay up a while longer thinking how glad I am that this Grace to my Will isn’t as pathetic as the television character. None of the ladies in my life are. Sure, they have their problems, but they wouldn’t be the girls I love if they didn’t.
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