Wait For Me, Connie, I'm Dying, Too (Too Soon?)
I'm sure that the novelty of being shot and living a life filled with constant danger must wear off after a while. By the time you've been shot for the second or third (honestly, people, what keeps you in Port Charles?! Are the taxes really THAT low or something? You can move literally anywhere in the world, from New York City to Pennsylvania to South America, and still be only minutes away from your loved ones in Port Charles, so I'm not buying the family excuse, either) time, you probably don't even panic, except for maybe some slight worry about which General Hospital doctor will be treating you ("I hope it's not Dr. Lee! Please God, don't let it be Dr. Lee. I'd rather die right here and now!"). So I didn't exactly expect Connie to, like, beg and plead for her life or anything, but I also didn't expect her to APOLOGIZE TO SONNY in her dying breath. I guess I SHOULD HAVE, though, because OF COURSE. OF FREAKING COURSE.
Connie: I love you so much, Sonny.
Sonny: I love you, too.
Connie: I'm sorry. I'm sorry I betrayed you.
Connie: I never stopped loving you.
I'm sorry, am I supposed to find that poignant and romantic? Because I don't. I find it terrible. Woman, you should have stopped loving Sonny in 2008 for reasons as varied as "everything about him" and "he basically hastened your untimely death by being totally and utterly useless".
Rather than call 911 immediately upon finding Connie shot and bleeding, Sonny instead:
- Talked to her a whole lot, for a long time
- Promised that "We'll be together the rest of our lives" and then made a distinctly uneasy expression like, "What have I just done? Technically, I didn't say the rest of my life so I'm good for grief sex as early as tomorrow morning, once my revenging is done".
- Oh, right, promised to get revenge on "The son of a bitch who did this". The writers are totally making it seem like said son of a bitch is AJ, as in Quartermaine, but it's probably AJ as in "Ava Jerome" except it wouldn't be as dramatic to just have Connie write "Ava". And I guess scrawling an extra letter would have been pretty tiring.
When he DID realize that he should maybe call 911, Sonny:
- Fumbled in his pocket for like ten minutes, which the sympathetic side of me wants to chalk up to nerves but the rational part of me who has watched Sonny for two decades chalks up instead to stupidity and possibly a lack of opposable thumbs.
- Could not make a said phone call.
- Violently threw his cell phone across the room.
- Dialed 911 from a landline, waiting about thirty seconds between each number.
- Had a pretty hilarious one-sided conversation with the 911 operator ("This is Sonny Corinthos. Listen, uh, I need an ambulance, there's a gunshot to the stomach...it's pretty bad. The Metro Court, third floor. Hurry up!")
- Did not wait to see what the 911 operator said he could do to help, perhaps because he's already looking forward to the hot grief sex he'll be having* in the near future.
- Gasped when Connie died. I don't know why I found it so funny, although it must have something to do with the complete lack of feeling I have for any of these characters, but his "Oh [tiny gasp]!" just tickled me.
- Snarled some more about getting revenge on AJ before dramatically choking back tears in a way that looked suspiciously like he forgot what to say and do next.
*I'd say the most likely candidate for grief sex would be Olivia, especially since she's grieving, too**, but like I've said, I've known Sonny for quite some time and I know that with the temper he has, he'd be unable to be in the same room as the over-the-top caterwauling and ridiculous Olivia for a full minute before he strangled her ("Who did this to my cousin, my best friend?!?!", she screamed the loudest volume possible, because that is a phrase that just rolls off the tongue and doesn't sound ridiculous) and that would sort of put a damper on the romance, you know?
**Of course, her grief doesn't compare at all to Sonny's.
Alexis: I'm talking to you now as the mother of his kid and to you as his son. You need to go gently on him, please.
Please imagine me DRAMATICALLY ROLLING MY EYES like they've never been rolled before.