This past weekend, I watched a lot of episodes of “The Office.” Episodes of this show are like potato chips — just one is never enough. And, pretty soon a third of the bag is gone. That’s how this weekend went for me: I blinked, and I’d watched five episodes in a row.
It’s one of the most uncomfortable yet compelling things I’ve ever watched. I have to restrain myself from yelling at the TV during almost every episode. Usually, my aggression is toward Michael Scott for doing things like kissing Oscar or promising young African American children he could pay for their college tuition when he’s deeply in debt. There’s never been a show like “The Office.” There’s never been a show that can elicit a cringe and a laugh so effortlessly at the same time.
But that is not the only reason I find “The Office” interesting. Some of the most memorable scenes and storylines on the show were the office romances: Jim and Pam, Michael and Holly, Dwight and Angela, Andy and Erin. The list goes on.
In almost every case, the office romances that the characters of the show favored consisted of two radically homogenous people with similar tastes, senses of humor and personalities. Jim and Pam goof off and see the absurdity in modern corporate life; Dwight and Angela hate everything and everyone except each other; Michael and Holly never grew up.
I find this interesting and reflective of how our culture relates to love and romance in the real world. True happiness comes from finding your soulmate — this view is embedded within almost every episode of “The Office.” Jim and Pam, for instance, discovered the people they were with, Karen and Roy, respectively, weren’t their true loves; they were people they could share a good life with but not a fulfilling one. They discovered they were meant for each other and couldn’t exist or live full lives without each other.
Their romance is sweet; not rooting for them is like not wanting the Rebels to defeat the Empire. But their romance is flawed, or at least the show’s view of love is flawed. It transfigures romantic relationships into something they are not and can never be. Relationships are not glamorous, divine or messianic; relationships are not always wonderful and fun. Relationships are like gardens, not theme parks. They take cultivation, care and work, but the fruits are infinitely worth the labor.
My girlfriend and I have dated for almost four years now, and it has not always been pretty. Sometimes I wondered if we should break up; we have had disagreements, fights and doubts, and sometimes we have just not wanted to be around each other. I’m glad we have remained together, but why should we expect any different? We are two deeply flawed people in close emotional proximity. We are bound to have problems. Indeed, we should expect them, not naively think we can pass over them.
And yet, we are quick to disillusionment at the first hints of trouble. We have a fairytale conception of love. “The Office” preaches if we just found our special someone, everything would be better. What happens, though, when the feelings of love diminish as they always do? Because we expect love to be nothing but bliss, we struggle to account for why we don’t always feel love for our significant others or why we don’t always want to be around them.
“The Office,” or hardly any form of pop culture for that matter, does not show this side of the coin. Our culture associates love with feelings and wonders why love is so hard to find — why it always eludes us. Feelings are like the wind — we have no idea where it comes from or where it is going. Feelings are the ficklest things about us. To build a relationship off of them is to inevitably bury yourself in quicksand.
Love is a lot of ambiguous things, but I know it is more than feelings. I wish I could tell Michael Scott that.
Scott Stinson is a UF English junior. His column focuses on popular culture.
