I was killing some time at Value Village earlier this week, (right, who am I kidding, I basically live there) and found myself humming along to Vanessa Williams’ stoopid love song “Saved the Best for Last“. Totally annoyed with myself, mostly for my complicity in enjoying a terrible awful song which reminded me of a terrible awful highschool boyfriend (you know who you are bowling boy), I started mulling over the lyrics and realised how twisted and psychotic they really are and how they likely warped my ideas around how a relationship should function, albeit for a short (very short) spell.
Basically the song is about how she loves a “passionate” guy who lies and cheats but is somehow so friggin’ excellent, she waits for him to “settle down” and finally choose her.
These lines really sum it up:
It’s not the way I hoped or how I planned
But somehow it’s enough
All of the nights you came to me
When some silly girl had set you free
You wondered how you’d make it through
I wondered what was wrong with you
Just when I thought our chance had passed
You go and save the best for last
This is a love song? Let’s break it down: she’s in the relationship of her nightmares, he often leaves her for other women but always comes back around for action (I think she calls it “dream sharing” in the song) and she knows something is totally wrong with him but somehow she’s willing to stick it out to be saved for last, like the boston creme in a box of honey-glazed.
Gross. Really, it’s gross to be willing to be treated so badly for the great gift of being chosen, a gift bestowed by someone capable of mistreatment for so long. Where’s the self-respect?
Rationalised away by imagining that waiting around to be chosen is better than choosing.
IMHO, choosing is way more fun.