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Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery
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HAIRSHIRT Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery |
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Sunday, September 25, 2005Medusa in the Multiplex
My wife and I went to see the excellent David Cronenberg flick A History of Violence last night. We saw it in a very, very crowded theater. The kind of crowded that forces late-coming couples to sit apart from each other. My wife and I were fortunate, in that we weren't stupid, so we got there in plenty of time to get two seats together, if not exactly the choicest seats in the house.
Not so lucky/intelligent was a couple that came in late into the previews. After walking up and down the aisle, blocking people's view of the sneak peak at Domino--which apparently stars Mickey Rourke and Ian Ziering!--they found one seat beside my wife and another in front of it. The husband/boyfriend/manwhore sat in our row and his female (?) companion sat basically in front of my wife. The woman (?) turned around several times during the previews to check and make sure that her fella hadn't run out of the theater screaming while she was watching the screen. This was a little distracting to those of us who kind of like watching previews, but we let it slide. Maybe twenty minutes into the movie, my wife had an itch on her foot and shifted around so she could scratch it, bumping the seat in front of her with her leg in the process. The lady (?) who had come in late was in that seat and she immediately turned around and glared at my wife who whispered an apology. This apparently didn't satisfy the woman (?) who hissed, "Yes, well please be more careful." Keep in mind here that my wife bumped the seat once. She wasn't sitting there drumming her feet on it. She hadn't kicked it so hard that her shoe went through it and lodged in this chick's (?) back. She had given the seat a quick, accidental thump, thus unleashing the gorgon. This, of course, ticked my wife off so much that she had trouble concentrating on the flick for a little while. She shares with me a certain amount of distaste for self-righteous condescending douschebags, so she was a little distracted from the movie by thoughts of blowing a snot in this dipshit's hair. I myself was caught up in some of the truly excellent acting going on on the screen, and didn't take note of the asshole until a very nice gentleman who had a hearing problem a few seats down from me turned to his wife to ask for clarification of a plot point. The human colostomy in front of us turned around and fixed this poor old guy with a death glare. She was just about to tell him how inconsiderate it was of him to have a throat when he stopped talking. Robbed of her chance to dress down a total stranger, the woman (?) turned around as huffily as she could manage. It wasn't a retreat of any kind, she was turning around with purpose, letting all within eyesight know that, while she was returning her gaze to the screen, it was in no way an act of surrender; that we had been spared her wrath solely because she was making that choice. This cracked me up. In fact, for the rest of the film, any time there was the slightest noise in the theater, I could tell it was bugging the shit out of her and I grinned from ear to ear. This included the time an usher stood with the door open for about a minute, letting in some truly thunderous lobby noise and the time the hard-of-hearing guy's wife's cell phone went off and she had trouble finding it. I watched this curly-haired lady (?) come very, very close to exploding. It was great. Never have I been so thankful for inconsiderate theater patrons. When the lights came up, I had to practically drag my wife out of the theater. She's a lawyer and her instincts tend toward the tenacious. She really wanted to lay into this bitch (?) and recommend that she maybe stick to DVDs if her attention was so very delicate that someone's nose hair hitting the floor three rows back would send her into that kind of rage. Afterward, my wife and I compared notes on the various things we'd thought about doing to this she-devil (?). We'd both considered a course of chair-kicks at ten minute intervals. My wife had had the notion of "accidentally" emptying her water bottle on the woman's (?) head. I'd wished for some better tools of revenge, such as a straw and some spitballs or, to borrow from an old Howie Mandel routine, a squirtgun filled with Jergen's Lotion. Realistically, though, I think we both knew that any verbal confrontation with this lady (?) would be pointless, as she was quite probably the type of person who will never, ever see another person's point of view. Neither would any of our more Dennis the Menacian torments have done anything other than provoke some sort of physical assault. I think our best course of action was to simply take the high road and enjoy her growing anger at every other living creature who in some way reminded her that she wasn't the only one in the theater. I love taking the high road.
Comments:
Oh this is too funny! I vote for the accidental water spill.
And I've linked to you, had to create a new category just for you. M http://dementedmichelle.tripod.com/dementedblog/
Was her purse sitting on the floor? I would have accidentally kicked over a jumbo so it would flood the bottom of her handbag. Mmmmm... wet and sticky!
I would have followed the couple home--assuming they weren't street people, in which case I would have followed them refrigerator box--and tested out the strength of their skulls relative to an aluminum softball bat.
Oh, what a rush I would feel, as my Easton SST3 Stealth mashed bone into gray matter. It would be hard to prevent blood lust from overtaking me, as each spine-tingling swing of the bat would bring me closer to Divine Evil. All the crunching lobes and spurting arterial spray would drive me to remove my clothes and cleanse myself in the perfect beauty of the violent death of stupid people. Either that, or I'd have done the bit with the jumbo-size Coke. Depends on my mood, I guess.
# posted by
 : 9:45 AM
you know... you men always expect us females to behave. I would have been DYING to lay into her and my husband would have been dragging me out of there.
of course, i ALSO wouldn't have accidentally kicked her chair. I would have had a drum roll going within fifteen minutes of the movie starting.
i would also like to point out that since you were behind her, that anything you dumped on the floor whould have come into contact with her shoes, purse, hem of pants, etc. subtle but still fun revenge.
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a pleasure as always...
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