Hi. My name is Mere…
Oh god, this is hard.
Fine, I’m just going to say it.
I fucking love “2 Broke Girls” on CBS.
Now wait, wait, wait!
Before this meeting devolves into a shouting match about how Garrett Morris and Matthew Moy are portrayed in “racist” ways – a theme that cropped up in the media shortly after the premiere (and you ask me, a thesis founded only in stiff-necked PC-ideology, which is utter crap when it comes to comedy – there should be nothing PC about comedy: no sacred cows, no untouchable topics – George Carlin would positively roll over in his grave at the prospect, just to show the world his ass) – let me tell you what “2 Broke Girls” tackles that other TV shows only graze, and uncomfortably, at that:
Not only does “2 Broke Girls” tackle this issue, it drives the issue into the turf and stomps its ugly face in with cleats – imparting to me a full-body pleasure I’d hitherto thought could only be produced by manual stimulation.
For me, watching Kat Dennings in her fugly polyester waitress uniform dealing out snide, crude, streetwise bon mots… I’m pretty sure this is the closest I’m gonna get to White Trash Valhalla.
Having come from the lower third of that 99% Occupy Wall Street is currently laying claim to, I feel entitled to impart a little something about class, considering I went from backwoods Florida to upper-crust Ivy League college in the space of one day: namely, the day I matriculated.
You see, before I arrived, I had zero idea of what a “college tour” was, except maybe in terms of up-and-coming rock bands. Neither did I have any idea that some of my classmates would own genuine Ferraris (though it took me a couple months to figure this out, considering I’d never seen a genuine Ferrari before). Nor did I realize that the majority of my classmates would not, like me, have to take classes AND work two jobs simultaneously in order to stay ahead of the Bursar’s Office.
Thus, like Dennings’ character, Max, I was thrown headlong into relationships with people like Beth Behrs’ stratospherically-rich character, Caroline. Yet crucial to the premise of “2 Broke Girls,” Caroline has just lost all her fabulous wealth thanks to her Madoff-ian embezzler of a dad (and as a sidenote, I can’t wait to see who’ll play him); otherwise her path and Max’s would never have crossed.
But as I can attest, sometimes these things really do happen – the high are brought low, and the low get scholarships – and the class circles one travels in are suddenly, violently Venn-diagrammed.
Of course, the easiest thing for the Writers to have done here would’ve been to make Caroline a selfish ditzball – using her to highlight the “holy poor” of Brooklyn. (For some reason – maybe guilt over their obscene paychecks? – Hollywood Writers often dole out “goodness” in inverse proportion to a character’s tax bracket.)
However, in an act of astounding intelligence, they’ve refused to make Caroline a self-pitying dumbass. Likewise, they could have made Max a roughneck bitch taking advantage of Caroline’s idiocy – but Max’s bitchiness is consistently shown to be only skin-deep, and Caroline is anything but an idiot – in fact, she’s kind of a genius.
In other words, just as I found smart, true (and rich) friends at college — these are two intelligent, good-hearted people who, all economic factors having been equal, most likely would have been friends to begin with.
And for this I applaud the Writers.
They’ve refused to laugh at people of different classes, and instead make fun of class itself.
George Carlin would be proud.