Asshole Jen and Rational Jen are going to tackle the news of our time, again. And today that issue is: would it be fun to marry Hugh Hefner, maybe? Just for clarification, Rational Jen is the one with shiny hair building an enormous Christmas tree of cupcakes in the center of the mansion. Asshole Jen is the one liberating the animals from the mansion zoo because she’s seen 12 Monkeys like a million times and misinterpreted it wildly.
Asshole Jen: NO YOU CANNOT MARRY HUGH HEFNER, NO IT WOULD NOT BE FUN. YOU CAN RATIONALIZE AWAY A LOT, BORING JEN, BUT YOU CANNOT RATIONALIZE GERIATRIC BUTT SEX IN A PALACE FULL OF POOP.
Rational Jen: Well, actually, you kind of can.
Asshole Jen: NO. FOOT DOWN DISCUSSION OVER.
Rational Jen: Okay, first of all, lets talk about the “palace of poop” issue. This rumor originates in Izabella St. Jame’s (literally) seminal work, Bunny Tales. Supposedly, a lot of the dogs in the Playboy mansion weren’t housebroken and the girls were always stepping in dog-poo. Hugh Hefner tweeted the other day that they only have one dog, and he’s housebroken. But look, even if he wasn’t, you’ve owned dogs. They’re not that hard to housebreak. You’ll have money. You can get someone else to housebreak the dogs.
Asshole Jen: GERIATRIC BUTT SEX ORGIES.
Rational Jen: Okay, again, you’re getting all of this from Bunny Tales. And, from what I’ve read, Hugh Hefner is monogamous when he’s actually married. So you wouldn’t have to worry about the orgies so much, I don’t think.
Asshole Jen: Dude, you realize you’d be infantilized, right? He proposed to her with a Little Mermaid theme. You’re not going to spend the day making wise-cracking jokes with this guy the way you always imagined you would in an ideal relationship, wherein you and your partner are like Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy.
Rational Jen: Umm, how many dudes do you go out with who even know who Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy are? Or what their dynamic was?
Asshole Jen: ALL OF THEM BECAUSE WE FORCE THEM TO WATCH OLD MOVIES.
Rational Jen: Yeah, see, but with Hugh Hefner you could be like “what was Marilyn Monroe like?” and he could tell you because he knew her. And I think you actually could have some cool, intellectual discussions. Playboy is an awesome magazine. It publishes Nabokov! It published Vonnegut! I think, his age aside, Hugh Hefner is a pretty fascinating, intelligent person. In, like, a parallel universe where he wanted to marry someone who wanted to talk about Nabokov, then I think you and Hugh Hefner could be happy.
Asshole Jen: NO.
Rational Jen: Think about how nice the stability would be. It would be like a lovely holiday for a really long time. They have movie nights four nights a week at the Playboy mansion. You love movies. And there would be a cook to make, I don’t know, cupcake Christmas trees in the foyer. And travel. Fantastic travel. And lots of interesting people stopping by. A game room where you could play ping-pong. And probably some measure of personal celebrity that would allow you to promote your personal projects. That would be fun.
Asshole Jen: You’d also have a 9PM curfew so Hugh Hefner could be sure you were not “playing around on him.” Seriously? You seriously think you’d be able to put up with that for ten minutes? You’d have a breakdown. He would not see you as an independent human being. You’d essentially have to do what he wanted all the time. It wouldn’t be a marriage of grown-up compromise, it would be a return to childhood. GILDED CAGE.
Rational Jen: Honestly? What do you do after 9:00?
Asshole Jen: PARTY. LIKE A ROCK STAR.
Rational Jen: Maybe one night a week. And your impetus for going to parties is like “oh, maybe Whit Stillman will be there!” Slamming down vodka tonics with a bunch of media people does not constitute “partying like a rock star.” You’re not really that exciting. It would kill you to be in by 9?
Asshole Jen: Huh. And if you wanted to meet someone, and you were married to Hugh Hefner, you’d just be like, “hey, come to the Playboy mansion”, and then they’d come and then you’d trap them in a cage, and they could never get out, and everything would be good forever.
Rational Jen: You’re so pretty when you go all Buffalo Bill.
Asshole Jen: I know.
Rational Jen: So, on the pro side – travel, personal celebrity, marriage to someone who is actually pretty cool, no more embarassment about buying Playboy at the bodega just because you want to read Nabokov, movie nights, some sort of game room and never being lonely again or at least not until Hugh Hefner dies.
Asshole Jen: There are different kinds of loneliness, Jen. Sometimes you can be loneliest in a room full of people, right above the cage in the basement where you’ve imprisoned all your cultural heros. Just saying.
Rational Jen: Okay, one more pro – Wealthy widowhood, and you know you could write a best selling memoir when he dies.
Asshole Jen: Jeez. You’re such an asshole.