It happened on Mother’s Day.
“I’m going to see Fifty Shades!” Mom announced with great excitement while she, my father and I had lunch at Pellegrino’s.
“What…I mean…movie isn’t made…bad…blergh…” I stammered in response.
Dad might have thrown down his napkin in disgust at this point. He doesn’t know exactly what Fifty Shades entails; only that he’s disgusted.
Almost simultaneously, Dad and I both blurted “let’s talk about something else.”
I gave my attention to the antipasto.
When I got home, I googled. I realized that my mom and her friends are going to see “Fifty Shades the Musical” at the Scranton Cultural Center. Honestly, I forgot it existed.
Starting tomorrow night, I’ll be avoiding Mom’s calls for three days. At least.
I don’t want to talk about Fifty, Mom!
- My mom is reading Fifty Shades of Grey
- Bon Iver erotica
I really hope the daughter wasn’t within earshot when this ‘interview’ was conducted.
Truly unavoidable, aren’t you Fifty?
There are even handcuff cufflinks for your paramour. They don’t come cheap (nor should you).
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When I wrote the post “Fifty Shades of intense publicity” in March, I had no idea what lay ahead.
In the airport
The book is everywhere, prominently displayed in stores and covered by seemingly every major media outlet.
Et tu, 20/20?