Liz
Lemon (played by Tina
Fey): “You wanna party? It's $500 for kissing and $10,000 for snuggling.
End of list.” – Liz Lemon, 30 Rock, Season
5, Episode 18, “Plan B,” original air
date March 24, 2011, teleplay by Josh Siegal and
Dylan Morgan, directed by Jeff Richmond
Liz, Liz darling, you have just supplied definitive
proof that you’re more cut out for writing (or, to be exact, extracting script
ideas from maladjusted junior writing staffers) than for business. Because,
with that price for “snuggling,” you preemptively eliminated any chance of
getting your foot through the door of a major enterprise, one that could prove
a lucrative sideline if you ever decide to throw in the towel on comedy writing.
That bible of the business world, The Wall Street Journal, just about said
as much in an article in its Friday edition by Stephanie Armour. Betcha never guessed there was such a thing as
“professional cuddlers,” Liz. I know I sure
didn’t—or even that they could make a nice bit of change ($80 an hour, or up to
$400 for an overnight session, according to one business owner quoted).
The article makes a point that demand for the services only really took off several years ago. Just about right, I guess, with all that recession-induced stress. But what if the cuddlers coalesce and form a cartel, hiking prices? Wouldn't that only raise stress once again?
Perhaps I’m slightly naïve, but I’d expect quite a
bit for such services. But no—its leading practitioners insist that nothing
untoward is involved, just squeezing, tickling and bearhugging. (That last
specialty could even work for Gov. Chris Christie of New Jersey, judging by his
spontaneous—and, as it happened, short-lived—embrace of Dallas Cowboys’
owner-general manager Jerry Jones last week at a playoff victory for the Texas squad.) Many, thank God, do enforce
contracts calling for recipients to shower and brush their teeth beforehand.
See, Liz, your boss Jack Donaghy would never have made the mistake of pricing
himself out of such a market. He would have recognized a promising operation,
acquired it, then leveraged the whole shebang by creating a reality show around
it.
Now, at first glance, I would think that this was
one of those fake news stories on NPR’s comic quiz show, “Wait, Wait—Don/t Tell
Me,” or Garrison Keillor’s classic New
Yorker tall tale, “Local Family Keeps Son Happy,” which explained how the
tense teenage son of “Mr. and Mrs. Robert Shepard of 1417 Swallow Lane” had
become so much better adjusted now that they had hired a live-in prostitute for
him.
But how can one be so distrusting when so many quoted in the Journal piece extol the “therapeutic benefits” of snuggling/cuddling?
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