While talking with friends about a recent movie-going experience, I realized that watching movies in the theater often yields some type of uncomfortably strange situation for me. Some of the people in the conversation each had a single story about unusual events involving them in movie theaters. After they exhausted their tales, I had plenty to continue sharing. This is a bit bizarre because I do not go to the theater that often. Having young children makes it difficult to get out to the "R" rated pictures. Maybe my stories are aplenty because I remember these weird instances more than others. Or, it just may be that I attract the odd. Maybe it's because I am odd. I don't know.
Experience #1 (most can understand and have experienced as well):
Last week I went to see "50/50" while in Denver with my friend, Amy. After touring a number of Denver malls in the sleeting, snowing, ridiculously cold for a Phoenix girl weather (should I hyphenate that?), I was happy to have a seat in a comfortable theater during which I would attempt to warm up my chilled feet. Thin socks and Converse do not insulate well. Although plenty of other seats remained open, two women in their 50s sat beside me. Right next to me, avoiding the "keep one seat open between parties rule." They began their chit-chatting . . . loudly. Annoyed, I remained quiet assuming their mouths would become silent after the previews. During the opening scene, the main character jogs down the street at a seemingly decent pace. A woman quickly surpasses him. The idiot next to me remarked, "That's what it looks like when I jog!"
This I could not abide. I turned to the right and asked, "Could you guys please be quiet?" The woman returned my death stare. We had a short death staring contest, which I won. Obviously, I did not pay $10 to hear Debbie Dumbass make funny during what turned out to be a great flick.
Experience #2 (perhaps this has happened to you):
While watching "Jarhead," a gruesomely bloody movie about war, a family of five sat behind us. This appeared to be parents and their children. This was a curious family film, considering the burning bodies, masturbating and vulgar language. Oh, but I don't judge. Where this went wrong was when little Jimmy (not his real name) began to cry. Apparently this toughened five-year-old wasn't ready for the images of war. He continued to cry and sob in fear. All the while, his family ignored him as they enjoyed their refreshments and Jake Gyllenhaal's performance. This occurred six years ago. I am sad to say I did nothing at the time. I am happy to say that if this happens again, I will not keep my mouth shut.
Experience #3 (relating to this is somewhat doubtful):
We were in the theater to watch "Zombieland," a movie I was excited to see. Arriving early, we sat close to the end of a row. During the previews, a family of three sat one seat away from me. Parents and a child of about seven unwrapped their snacks, poured popcorn down their throats and sucked down pop. Of course, I was disgusted that such a young boy would be watching this movie. The opening scene depicts zombies eating people, breaking bones and chomping on human flesh. The language is definitively "R." Nevertheless, I cannot dictate parenting techniques to others, so I lost myself in the film. We were about 30 minutes in, and I was enjoying the entertainment when I heard a large amount of liquid letting loose toward the bald man's head in front of the boy two seats away from me. It seems his 32 ounce soda wasn't sitting well with him. This resulted in projectile vomiting, made all the more powerful due the high content of liquid. My feet went up on my seat, and I clutched my purse next to me. How would these stellar parents respond? Dad yelled, "Fuck." Mom did nothing. Dad made a big scene and was ANGRY at his son. They were missing out on this awesome movie, after all. Both parents annoyingly ushered the son by us to the stairs where the little guy puked again. After about 10 minutes, a movie worker, with little booties on his feet and a penlight in his hand, approached the area to clean up both floor and stairs. Yes, the puke smell lingered.
Experience #4 (I bet this hasn't happened to you):
"Castaway" was one of those talked-about movies. I had read about its amazing scenes and wonder, so we decided to go. I want you to remember that movie if you have seen it. I mean really think about it. Tom Hanks' character is alone on an island with his friend the volleyball, Wilson. The dialog is next to none. The music is little to none as well. What viewers can hear is ocean waves, rain and the natural sounds of the island. I bring this up so you will appreciate how extremely peculiar it was that a blind man was sitting right in front of me at this movie. I think the time spent on the island is close to an hour. Nearly an hour of very little for this guy to hear. Well, it would have been very little if he had not had his buddy, The Movie Narrator sitting next to him.
"Ok. Now he's putting some palm fronds together. Weaving them to make something. We're not sure yet, but it's likely some sort of shelter."
"All right. You hear the rain, right? It's really raining. He looks very cold. He must be so depressed at this point. He doesn't know if he'll survive."
"The Wilson he is speaking to is a ball, a volleyball. He has given it hair and a face, so it's like he's actually talking to another person. It's all he's got right now."
This concludes the tales of my life at the movies. I have left out the story of the Loud Napkin Guy, The Family of Stair Runners and others. Luckily, I will go to the movie again, and something just might happen that elicits another story. We do plan to go see "Moneyball" today because the children are away, far away, with Grandpa and Grandma. You'll be the first to know if I make an addition.
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