Jack Dawson, the man who stole my twelve-year-old heart, is, perhaps, the sexiest of all Broke-Asses. He won his way, fair and square, on to the mighty Titanic in a game of poker with some Swedes, exhibiting true, tainted Broke-Ass luck. When invited to the upper decks, he did his best to fit in, but ultimately returned to the Poor People Party Deck, where the real fun was happening. Jack knew what was up.
His sexy sketches won him another ticket, this time on the SS Kate Winslet’s Boobies Express. The awesomeness of the hot and steamy ye-olde-car-sex-scene was inspiration for all Broke-Asses to follow, showing that the backseat is just as good as some ritzy cabin on an “unsinkable” ship.
In short, Jack personifies the American Broke-Ass dream: taking things from foreigners, making a living as an artist, mooching off the Upper Deck, drinking with the poor peeps, and making it with the rich girl. His one shortcoming was not being creative enough to fit both him and Rose on that floating door (I would have scooched for you!). Alas, he held true to his promise to “never let go” by forever having a hold on my heart, and my life as a Broke-Ass. I’ll never let go Jack. I’ll never let go.