“I’m just here for the snacks.”
So do you think Chris Hansen ever watched Dateline: To Catch A Predator?
I mean a full episode. Start to finish.
Not just the editing room clips, or the production dailies to make sure his forehead wasn’t too shiny and his Burberry was pressed. But a full episode. Does he know what it was all about? If he did, how in the name of All That Is Awwwwwkward could he get himself into the same situation, minus the lemonade and cookie tray?
Quick catch up for those of you without a television, radio, newspaper, magazine, internet connection or gossipy neighbor. After years and years of putting future Toddlers & Tiaras judges under the microscope for trying to hit up make believe youngsters in chat rooms, Chris “Why Don’t You Have A Seat Right Over There” Hansen was recently busted for cheating on his wife. Alot. And on camera. Now the camera may add 15 pounds, but it doesn’t lie when you are nibbling on a different woman than the one in your wedding photos. Granted she also worked for the NBC Mothership, but that doesn’t make it right, kids.
Cheating is one thing. And irony is one thing. But put them together in a hand cranked blender and you have one of the sloppiest, tastiest Slurpee concoctions ever, second only to that new 24oz Captain America three colored thing.
To fully appreciate the hilarity, you need to revisit To Catch A Predator. Hopefully you don’t have any episodes saved on VHS, because…one…that would creep me out, and…two…would probably set off a Mall Cop Security Alert. But since classic Dateline is wood burned into my brain like a Shop Class assignment, let me remind you what a hoot this really is in the big scheme of things.
Chris Hansen prided himself on setting up a seemingly endless parade of Uncles You Don’t Talk About At Family Gatherings with uncomfortable in-home stings. After being lured to suburbia by 52 year old women posing as Little League outfielders online, (all very fluent in internet dirty talk apparently), a Ringling Bros. clown car’s worth of hardware store clerks and Warcraft Level 3 point leaders would wander into an unlocked house and plop a bag of “stuff” onto the counter. How these dudes couldn’t smell trouble from the front walk is beyond me.
First red flag would be when the house is so full of HD cameras, microphone cranes, booms and umbrella lights that you lose wi fi reception as you drive up to the mailbox. If you can’t talk on your Droid when you drive under a power line on the highway, there is no way that thing works on Wisteria Lane on Sting Day.
Second flag. What 12 year old is going to set up a fresh carafe of pink Mike’s Hard Lemonade and one handed finger cookie snacks? (Read into all that what you will. This is a family friendly blog.)
Third flag. Chris Hansen is there. Der.
So after years of markdown Walmart fashions coming thru those revolving kitchen doors, the networks all christened Mr. Hansen as the poster child for the Luke Skywalker Good Guys. His career at NBC shot up faster than any pocket rocket ever did. He was being groomed to be the next anchor of Dateline.
Then it got weird.
And now you’re up to speed. And he is so busted.
And now, through this odd world where anyone can be a news anchor, thank you Katie Couric, poor Ann Curry gets caught in the crossfire. We love her. And she has waited for-freakin-ever to get that seat next to Matt. She was packing up her desk stuff when Katie left, and was good to go. Then Meredith cut her off at the knees. So then she unpacked her desk stuff. Poor Ann Curry waited so long for this that her hair grew long enough that she could cut if all off for charity, and then grow it back out again. (Is she for real? Is anyone really that nice?) Plus she is working the late shift and still hosting Dateline.
And now that Chris Hansen decided to help himself to a big gulp of hard lemonade from someone else’s cup, he probably isn’t getting the Dateline anchor gig after all. So now they either give it to someone who isn’t worthy, or they continue to work Ann to the bone. And now your gossipy neighbor is saying that she won’t let it go anyway, just to be a beeotch. Lay off Ann, people. She was minding her own business unpacking her pencil cup and mouse pad in the big girl office while Chris was getting all Adult Pay per View with his network girlfriend.
You can’t make this stuff up. Does Chris not remember all the sweaty guys, straight out of Central Casting, who kept fidgeting on those uncomfortable Liquidation Outlet stools? Even though Dateline was a 60 minute show, it always took well over 90 minutes to watch each episode due to constantly backing up your DVR thinking you recognized that Junior High Biology teacher. I remember it. How can Chris not remember? Again, as I’ve stated previously…Lucy, you’ve got more ‘splaining to do. The whole thing is just wrong. In a perfect reality TV blogging kind of way, thank goodness. But still wrong.
And I prefer chips with lemonade anyway, thank you.
