I've been taking a bit of a writing hiatus the last week to let my latest MS grow a thick coating of inspirational mould before I start revising. As such, I've been catching up on things.
Cleaning (haha, not really).
Yesterday, I was watching some PVR'd shows and after fiddling in the kitchen for too long, came back to see that the recorded show was over. The channel it flicked to was playing a show called Plastic Makes Perfect, A Canadian show about plastic surgery with comedians who talk about plastic surgery. There are also social "experiments" meant to illustrate how much easier it is to be physically attractive. A strange combo, but whatever.
One of the "experiments" was putting a pretty lady in the St. Lawrence Market to give away cookies - next to a sign that said "Sample My Goodies." Ah-mazing. The cookie eaters would then rate the pretty lady's customer service skills. Then, the pretty lady got a serious make-under and tried to give away cookies again. Needless to say, the pretty lady gave away more cookies and scored higher on the survey. The craziest part, though, is that I knew the pretty lady! She's married to one of The Remix's cousins.
It's always so cool to see someone you know on TV...
that is, unless.....
you see her boobs.
Yup, you read that right.
This is the dilemma that I was forced to grapple with yesterday.
The segment of the show following my cousin's wife featured a woman I used to work with when I lived in Toronto. Sounds harmless enough but my former co-worker was featured as a plastic surgery recipient, not an "experiment." And what did she want done?
A boob job.
Now, obviously my former co-worker didn't have a problem going on a show that would display her nipples for all of the world to see but I couldn't help but feel like a mega-pervert. I mean, I know this woman! We used to take lunch breaks together!
During her intro speech, where she outlined her unhappiness, I realized I was in a countdown towards the peep show. Being a half-hour segment, I figured that I had less than a minute to decide whether or not to keep watching.
Frantic thoughts bounced around my brain:
Just how pervy would it be to keep watching?
What if she looks amazing afterwards, wouldn't I want to see her happiness?
Plus, I watch makeover shows all of the time, so would this really be any different?
Surely she knew that people would watch her, I mean, she's on a television show.
Nipples, nipples nipples....
So I ask you: Do you think I watched it?
Would you have?