On Sunday, Scarlett Johansson’s publicist confirmed to the Associated Press that the actress is engaged to—god, I can’t even say it—Colin Jost.
At the Rib, I have been self-assigned to the Colin Jost beat for about the past month, reporting on everything from his dumb smirk to his smug smirk to his even dumber smirk. I am deep into the world of the Jost. I know all about his age (36), his feelings about Viagra (positive), and his relationship to Lorne Michaels (like father, like son). Even though I know every nook and cranny of Colin Jost and his Harvard (Lampoon) educated psyche, did I expect that, after two years of dating, Colin Jost would get betrothed to Scarlett Johansson?
No!
How could he—
I mean, why on Earth—
I-I’m simply beside myself.
Colin Jost is the kind of guy who gets your number courtside at a pro tennis tournament, calls once, blocks you, then pretends not to know you at a summer barbecue. Colin Jost is the kind of guy who takes pleasure in ordering the wine paired with each tapas at a Spanish bistro and laughs when you can’t pronounce Tempranillo. Colin Jost has never rowed crew a day in his life, but he’d love for you to think so. To think that he could take his long term girlfriend to a farm-to-table restaurant outside of New York City and pop the question is utterly unthinkable. To think that he is officially off the market is devastating.
How will I ever recover, knowing that Colin Jost is destined to marry to another?
Colin Jost was supposed to read my article exposing his dumb jokes about Viagra then publicly call me out for being “incorrect, but very funny” then send me an email defending his Viagra fixation but also reiterating that I am “very funny” then invite me to watch Norm Macdonald interviews and then, finally, after a five hour Norm Macdonald binge, fall in love with me. As much as I truly think that Colin Jost is a soulless hack, I can’t deny that I dream of a life together. We’d vacation to the Hamptons, somewhere I have never been but think Colin Jost probably knows a lot about. We’d adopt a dog together and name it Norm (Macdonald) and it would bite Colin and Colin would give it away to Aidy Bryant. Colin would show me his Weekend Update jokes and I would rewrite all of them because they aren’t very good. Lorne Michaels would officiate our wedding, then baptize our first born son (Norm Macdonald) then baptize me immediately after.
Even though I loathe Colin Jost’s persona and also sometimes his face, I cannot help but love him deeply and feel shocked, hurt, betrayed that he chose someone else over me. This is not a petty fight between two women. Let’s leave ScarJo out of this. This is a fight between me and Colin Jost—mediocre Weekend Update host, scorned would-be lover, forever enemy.
I am not saying I am going to sabotage Colin Jost’s engagement, or show up to the Roman Catholic church—or, god forbid, RUSTIC BARN VENUE!!—he’s getting hitched at to give him one more chance to introduce me to Norm Macdonald’s oeuvre. I’m not saying I’m not going to do that either. But for now, I am going to try to return to the professionalism my post demands of me and say: how dare he.
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