I was at the theatre this weekend, which is rare for me. It was a kids movie, but one that didn’t absolutely suck. Yes, I saw ‘Cars’. I liked the movie ( what I got to see of it). I had planned this outting like an event. I bought the tickets to that showing earlier in the day, so my family and I wouldn’t get blocked out (I had a feeling it would sell out). We all had a nice dinner at Appleby’s. We then went back to the theatre and were still there in time to catch 10 minutes of previews. It was a 7:30 show, so it was still in the ‘kid zone’ of theatre times where children can reasonably be present without disdainful looks from other adults.
Were my kids bad? No…not at all. They were good as proverbial gold. No crying, no loud questions, just spell-bound enjoyment of the magic that is Pixar. It being the first weekend, the theatre really filled up…to the point where I could only see two seats left, and they were the two to my left. Behind me, I hear two voices and one asks, “Are those seats taken?”
“Why no,” I replied. “Help yourself.” How could I know that I would spend the next 2 hours regretting those words?
I guess my first clue that these Classless Bitches would be a problem was when they climbed 4 rows to get to the seats, Roberto Benigni style. But at least he had class enough to wear shoes, and not get skanky toe-jam on the back of 4 upholstered seats. Well, I guess those girls needed the publicity, so I did my best to ignore the 20-something attention-whores that had now plopped themselves next to me. Hey, I’ve got my kids with me, I’ve got my wife with me, I’ve got a first run movie starting, so live & let live, right?
The blinding twin flashs from their combined 1000-watt Razrs made short work of that however. To their credit, they weren’t making calls. To my credit, the minute they did, I was running, not walking, to management to bounce them out on their form-fitting jeans. No, they must have played this game before…and they did one of the few obnoxious things management couldn’t throw them out for: Texting.
Texting. Not annoying? I’m over reacting? How’d you like to be watching a night scene in a dark movie theatre…during a movie that has your attention and that you really want to see…when someone shines a Mag-Lite® in your face? Yes, these fucking bimbo-walkie-talkies were just that bright. And after they’d share a text picture or an ‘oh so important’ tid-bit about Bobby Ken-doll, they’d giggle, while the smell of their unclean bare feet curled the noses of everyone in 3 rows. Good God, couldn’t you leave the Borg Collective for Two Fucking Hours???
I put up with it for a while…and then I shot them a few looks. Their response? “How YOU doin’, Big Guy…?” looks right back at me. What the fuck?!? Why yes, how’d you know? Why, I always go to theatres to hit on/pick up strange, rude, and smelly women. Why, I even brought the wife and kids along to watch. Mind if I call you ‘Toe-Jam’? Oh, no reason. Except that no matter what designer crap you wear and how much you stick out your tits, You Smell Like Feet and You Act Like Ass!!! And you are ruining the whole G-d D-mned Picture!!!
You know, in an odd way, I really ought to thank them. Before this, I had no idea what I wanted for Father’s Day. And no, its not stink-footed ass. It’s the handy-dandy SH066P handheld cell phone jammer. And I can’t Wait until the next movie where I get to try it out.