Like most other critics, feminists, and fans of funny things, I've been devouring the second season of your show, Inside Amy Schumer, with a relish I typically reserve for garlic bread pizza. It's smart, insightful, and funny enough to make everyone love it even though it's nice to women. No wonder GQ recently named you one of the funniest people alive.
So it bummed me out when, after your trip to Miami in February, an episode of Inside featured a stand-up bit that hates on Miami women for being ultra sexy and pouty and, um, having an accent? I missed your February show because I was busy having a baby, but if I had been there, I'd have sat in the front row, and our eyes would've met, and in that moment, we'd have instantly become besties. After you pulled me up on stage for a hilarious impromptu riff about what it actually means to "have it all," we'd have spent the rest of the night sipping tequila and sharing stories about the awesome ladies we know. Many of mine would be about Miami women. And then that unfortunate stand-up bit could have been avoided.
Anyway. As a woman in Miami, I was bummed about being lumped in with the mystical Latina unicorns of your imagination. But I was also disappointed that you hadn't really given Miami a chance to earn your love. So when I saw this week's widely acclaimed interview with a 106-year-old lady, I saw an opportunity. See, we have old women in Miami, too. Like, a whole lot of them. I bet you'd really like them, Amy. And that's a good thing, because Miami needs you.
It's not just because you have a way with the old folks. (Though we do have a ton of them here, and their grandchildren so rarely visit.) It's because living in Miami is like living in a kooky alternate universe version of the rest of the country, one where we break records for taking selfies. One where we Bang With Friends better than anywhere else in the state. One where taxpayers funded a ballpark with a nightclub featuring stripper-friendly dance platforms and a swimming pool.
There is so much material for you here, Amy.
Being a woman in this landscape of extremes comes with unique challenges. For example, how do I politely tell the girls in my office that I'm not interested in joining their seven-day juice cleanse? How much of my retirement fund should I spend on my daughter's quince? Into what adorable shape should I have my aesthetician wax my pubes this week?
That "sexy Latina" stereotype you perpetuated in your show? That's just too easy. Like most things in Miami, the female experience here is far more complex, more foreign, and ultimately far more bizarre than you'll find anywhere else in the nation. And it deserves your attention.
You've already addressed topics that are particularly relevant to Miami women. Your one-stop plastic surgery sketch, in which patients literally turn themselves into cats? We know those women. The girls at the gym, making condescending judgments about strippers before their pole dancing class starts? We've been those girls. Chrissy Teigan as your couples counselor? We know the feeling - we encounter professional models every time we visit the beach or walk down Lincoln Road. For Miami women, as for women in the rest of the country, your sketches function as free therapy, validating our critical feelings about ourselves while simultaneously undercutting them.
But this is Miami, Amy. We are especially in need of therapy. Ask anyone.
So when you return to South Florida in a few months, consider this: What if you filmed season three in Miami? You'd be perfectly poised to take on the stereotypes of the chonga and pata sucia. You could stage your own Bat Mitzvah. And you'd have a wealth of fascinating interview subjects for your "Amy Goes Deep" segments. (I suggest starting with Skrawberry.)
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Think about it, Amy. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
With Miami, I mean. But I am also available.
Follow Ciara on Twitter: @ciaralavelle.