I was dragged back to see The Two Towers the other night by my Saturday Night date. I’d already seen it on opening day and loved it bunches, and had no problem seeing for the second time, except…I don’t dig going to the movies on weekend nights.
Why, you ask? Well, of course you know why. Weekend nights are when the chances of having your movie going experience ruined by some TALKING, OBNOXIOUS cocksucker or cocksuckette who has no regard or respect for others. Most people generalize this shitty fucking rudeness as being exclusive to teenagers, but in my experience it’s been a regular all-age all-race all-types brigade of assholes fucking up my 8 dollars and 25 cents.
So I went. The theatre was full, almost sold out. We sat down near the front and tried to settle in. The pre-show atmosphere of inane babbling and cell phone conversations (“I’m up in this muthafucking movie, dawg!”) settled down during the trailers, and was *quiet as a pin * as the movie began.
I felt something…I think it was hope. Hope for humanity, hope for Western Civilization, hope for a better world where people actually made an effort to behave properly in public instead of walking around in “pre-distressed” jeans with huge rolls of fat hanging over the edge and keeping their conversations to themselves and, ah, all those wonderful things that would make a better world.
But fuck no.
Who did I have setting four seats down from me? None other than The Fucking LOTR Geek.
He was a 40’s-ish fellow, overweight and balding, bespeckled and bearded. His female companion looked very similar, with the exception of the beard.
About 15 minutes into the movie, he began his commentary. In a nice, even, conversational tone of voice. He made absolutely no attempt to modulate his dulcet tones. He made a few comments, then fell silent…and I took a deep breath. I’m not so uptight as to get upset over a few interruptions, so I figured I’d just sit back and enjoy the movie.
Alas, no. This cocksucker began to pontificate at every moment he could.
“That’s not like the book!” he’d say, in tones of astonishment.
“Well, they definately changed that,” he’d say, in disgust.
“Wow, they dropped that whole part out,” he suddenly blurted. Then his voice rose. “Honey, *did you see how they dropped that part out? * Jesus. What a hack job.” He was silent for a moment, then, he exclaimed, “*Just like Tom Bombadil! * Remember, they dropped him from the first book!”
At that point something inside me snapped like a cheap pencil. My date, also feeling foul, nodded silently to me, and the two of us rose in unison and walked down to where the man was sitting.
By this point I was hallucinating shoving a entire hardbound edition of LOTR up his fucking lard-saddled ass and twisting it around as many times as I could…in other words, I wasn’t feeling my best. My date did all the talking, and I think she did a very diplomatic and reasonable job of asking him to keep quiet.
He agreed, almost apologetically. From the guilty look on his stupid cow face, and the confused look on his female companion’s equally cow face, I realized this fucking loser really didn’t realize he was doing anything wrong or improper. Me, I was figured him to be a asshole from way back…but then I realized he was one of the Lost. You know, the kind of people who fall off toilet seats, who burn their mouths on hot coffee at McDonald’s and sue the company over it, etc.
We sat down and managed to enjoy the rest of the movie. It was all handled well, very civil, very proper. My date was a law student who is studying for the bar as I type this and she is very much the rational woman.
Still, some part of me wishes I could have screamed in that fucker’s face: “Who gives a FUCK what they changed, who gives FUCK what they dropped, and who gives a FUCK if you even live or not!”
And then I’d spit in his face. For emphasis.
All apologies to LOTR fans; I’m not trying to generalize everyone into a geek. You can slam the movies all ya want. Just do it when you’re out of the fucking movie theater, yes?
