When I first heard this story, I laughed like a coked-up whore for a solid minute, then looked at my friend and said "No, seriously. You've gotta be shitting me." I mean, consider the facts. She fell off the roof of a parking garage. A parking garage. Now, parking in downtown Portland is at a minimum and as such we have an ungodly amount of parking garages and the citizens of my fine city have mastered the art of their usage like a boss. It is quite simple, really. You drive into the garage, take your ticket, park your car, then traverse to the street level by way of either a spacious elevator or one of the myriad stairwells surrounding said structure. At no time do you ever park your car, climb to the roof, and attempt to access the neighboring building by making a grand jete from the railing.
I know, I know. This shouldn't annoy me as much as it does. I mean, who did she really hurt, besides herself? Well, how about the taxpayers who shelled out their hard-earned money to pay the rescue workers who came tearing in there like the INS at a bordertown Taco Bell and had to wedge her sorry ass to safety at 3:45 am? That stuff nags at me like Norman Bates' mother when a blonde checks in.
I don't have a problem with drunk people gallivanting on top of buildings in the middle of the night. If that's what blows your skirt up, then more power to you. What I DO have a problem with is the amount of press this crazy bitch is getting for making the Walk-of-Shame off the StarPark and screaming like RuPaul with his (her?) nuts in a Black and Decker work vise. If it were me, I'd be so embarrassed that the last thing I'd be doing is yelling for attention. I'd let myself starve up there in silence for a couple of days until I was thin enough to slide down the wall like Jeremy Renner in "The Bourne Legacy"; then I would haul my chafed ass to my car and be tearing outta there so fast my tires would be balder than Donald Trump in a Class-4 hurricane.
I get it, the media loves a good search and rescue story, but this chick's not Baby Jessica; she's a grown-ass woman who knew exactly what she was doing when she went all Black Swan at 3:00am. Right now her local popularity is through the roof. . .literally, THROUGH the roof. But this kind of "fame" is a little like winning a People's Choice Award: all it shows it that you caught the popular attention of the same people who nominated "Twilight" for Best Picture. It only takes 5 seconds to be a media sensation, then you spend the next forty years as a joke with a shitty punchline.*
*Yeah, I'm talking to you, Kate Gosselin..
I'll admit, I got a perverse voyeuristic thrill out of watching the rescue crew jimmy this woman free like Star Jones taking off a pair of skinny jeans while everyone stood around clapping like a bunch of spastic kids cleaning erasers, but for the love of all that is good and holy, when ABC News starts giving this dipshit more screen time than the Chilean miners then I declare shenanigans. If she chose to do so, there is no doubt in my mind that Humpty Dumpty could parlay her little swandive into a LifeTime Movie of the Week, but to her credit, she's laying low. So, fortunately, it looks as though her "15 minutes of fame" will last about as long as a sparrow's fart or an American Idol winner's career.
I understand that she's human, and as such, she made a bad decision. We all have our shit. We all do things that make us question our place on the evolutionary chain, but in a day and age where common sense is harder to find than a virgin after Prom Night, we need to stop deifying these acts of stupidity, and turning them into profiles of courage. Because the day I see some idiot who got stoned and walked in front of a bus sharing the cover of People magazine with the victims of a school shooting is the day I invest in a tinfoil helmet 'cause that kind of crazy is viral, yo.
I'm glad this woman is safe. I certainly don't wish ill will upon anyone on this planet. . .*
*Well, maybe my ex-husband. And that perky girl at the gym who's always yapping on her cellphone, because. . .reasons.
. . .but I do think there needs to come a time when we as humans can step back, look at the dumbass wedged between two buildings like a chunk of human cholesterol, and say "You know what, Darwin? We're just gonna let you take it from here."
HAPPY MARTIN LUTHER KING DAY, PARTY PEOPLE!!!