I have not had a lot of time to do much of anything lately - outside of working.
When I do have a few hours to spend, doing as I will, I head to the new movie theater. I’ve had the chance to see a bunch of new movies over the past three months and I must say I am not any worse for wear.
I have watched blue people fly on the wings of dragons, teenagers turn into giant canines, and Mel Gibson save the day yet once again. I have witnessed Meatballs the size of Volkswagens fall from the sky, the invention of the first untruth and I have seen Sherlock Holmes make it seem all too elementary.
It was $8.00 to get in. That’s to be expected. The diet coke and a small popcorn came to $10.50. I agreed to give myself some nookie after the show and it was affirmed consensual.
That's the good part. The thing that kept running through my mind today though was SHHHHHH !!! Yeah. You guessed it - Old People in the seats behind me - again.
For some unknown reason, people think that the theater is an extension of their living room. They carry on like they’re watching Wheel of Fortune or Jeopardy. Kibitzing and small-talking their way through the plot and the character development. This poses a problem, at least for me.
It’s not the fact that I could turn around and say;
"Shh" or "Shut up" or "Do you mind?" or "What the frigg old lady?" or "Jesus Hector Christ on a popsicle stick!!" I mean, anyone can do that.
My problem is the after. After I say it, I have to sit and wallow in it. The rest of the film will not be enjoyable for me because I will keep my arms folded against my chest and an ear on the Ben Gay pirates behind me. I have to be ready for them to start up again, and will have had to formulate a counterstrike to the verbal volley they will undoubtedly be postulating behind me.
Of course, at that time, I would not only be speaking up for myself, but for my fellow patrons situated within earshot. ‘Union rep’ for the rest of us. Excuse me while I clasp my hands and shake them over each shoulder.
Fact of the matter is, no one voted me into this position and as far as I am concerned, my telling the octogenarians to "Pipe down" is, in itself, adding more decibels to the mix. So today, I just turned around and gave them stink-eye.
When the movie ended, I really wanted to follow them out and chastise them. Then I thought that I might be perceived as a bully. Especially after what went down at work with the old man last month. Guess you need to read my previous blog to get the skinny on that one. So I walked the other way, got into my car, and drove home.
I have to say that I am quite surprised that we still have bad actors. I mean, with all the time and energy put into casting and with all the competition that’s out there, I’m baffled at how many bad actors are still up on that giant screen. The 12 year old that lives in this house, is better at faking tears, acting surprised and palming a late night snack then any of the actors I paid to see today.
Hell! The guy that talked me into a transmission fluid flush in lieu of a simple oil change this morning was better at making me believe danger was just around the corner than the director of the 38 million dollar film the two old people behind me talked through this afternoon. "Is that the daughter?"
"Yes"
"But I thought the daughter was dead?"
"She is."
"So How can that be the daughter?"
"It’s a flashback."
"A what?"
"A flashback."
"Where?"
"There."
"Where?"
"There!"
"I thought it was the daughter..."
"It IS the daughter!"
Click- Click - BOOM!
Make my own movie!
Yeah. Movies are cool.
Old people that talk in them?
Not so much.
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