She’s the wife of the driver in the new Chevy Malibu commercial, where her husband is talking about the car’s performance and she drowns him out by singing Spandau Balet’s “True.”
She is so freaking obnoxious. If I were the driver, the last scene would be her dumped on her ass on the sidewalk, and me driving away, having flipped the song from “True,” to Steam’s “(Hey Hey) Goodbye.”
It’s not just her - the other couple in the back seat are singing as well. If anything, the driver’s being rude by interjecting his unrequested spiel about the car’s performance.
I guess in that sense, the commercial is rude, too, interjecting itself into my TV watching.
Well, the commercial pays for your TV viewing, so they get a pass.
But the woman virtually throws the song in his face. Yeah, ok, maybe he’s yammering about the car. She’s telling him to shut up in the rudest way possible.
That’s probably true. But a character isn’t real. You could almost say that he wants to punch an idea.
And you know, there is a way to - effectively - puch an idea in your own head. It’s called drinking. So my suggestion to you Bricker is to have a good stiff drink. Works wonders.
Ironically, the commercial is calling attention to the omission of what would have been a useful feature in the Chevy Malibu; a driver’s side button that activates the passenger’s side airbag.
“Sing (POOF!) into (POOF!) this (POOF!) Sweetheart.”
Yeah, I thought the point of the commercial was “Our product is for boring prats who will insist on interrupting people all evening long to talk about something they’re uninterested in.”
Not only did he interrupt Spandau Ballet, but he did it to monologue about something he had already blathered about “all the way to the restaurant.” Yeah, she was a bitch, but he was asking for it.