I call my doctor, and am subsequently third in the queue. I’m mesmerized by the hold music, reassuring warm piano ostinatos that go on and on till the point of tedium. I imagine it’s the theme to a sitcom.
The sitcom is American, as is so often the case. We open on a bunch of pals, five of them, hangin’ in a plush apartment, as sunlight frames these attractive, racially diverse thirty somethings. They’re high-fiving each other, all with non-branded beers next to them. They’re perched on squishy sofas and chairs. They’re living their best lives, and other such clichés. They laugh and gently mock each other. Cut to…
An exterior of a large building. A bank of some kind. One of the young people, a dude, a Chandler type, is rushing to his first day on the job, but almost collides with an attractive, business suited lady. She smiles, he smiles, it’s an awkward meet-cute. Cut to…
The title comes up in vibrant, yellow graffiti lettering: YOU GOT THIS. It tells us that these people may be thirty somethings, but they’re still chill. They’re sassy. And other such clichés.
“Hello? He-llo?” A tentative, Scottish voice takes me off hold. Oh yeah. What am I calling for, again? Yup. I’ve got this.
Hit The North 