August 15, 2006
Heather Calls Me "Movie Xena"
Well, I was Bitchy, Cranky, Crotchety Old Person this weekend at the movie theatre. It was awesome.
Husband and I went to see "Lady in the Water." Say what you like about M. Night Shyamalan, but I like him. I like his movies, I like his acting. I even like his pretty, pretty eyes. So just deal with it because this isn't about the movie or M. Night.
It's about teenagers. Really, really annoying teenagers.
Now, if you've seen "Lady in the Water," you know it's all about mood. Creepy, eerie, mystical. So it's often very quiet and dimly-lit. It doesn't over-power you -- it sucks you in.
If, that is, you aren't being distracted by really, really annoying teenagers.
I usually attend movies on Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday nights, particularly because I don't like people, and I want my movie-watching experience to involve as few of them as possible. In fact, I can't remember the last time I saw a movie on a weekend.
Hee! Just remembered something funny. When Husband and I went to see "Troy" (please don't mock me -- I didn't know), there was a couple who brought an infant with them. An infant. It's only the opening credits, and already the kid is fussing and making noise.
Since my Super Bitch costume is really hard to get into, I normally give people a few minutes to stop their annoying behavior on their own. But not the woman behind me.
No, she was all over that couple with, "Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me!"
BWAAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
The couple quickly spirited the infant away from the Crazy, Swearing Lady, while I neatly folded the Super Bitch costume and reverently handed it to her, bowing in acknowledgement of her superior bitch powers.
Ah, good times.
So, there we were, all settled down for the movie with our popcorn and Twizzlers (*Dinner of Champions*), when four teenagers (two boys, two girls) sat down in front and to the immediate right of us. No cause for immediate panic. I'm not so old -- yet -- as to believe that all teenagers are reprehensible slime, so I didn't think much of it.
Until the movie started, and they all whipped out their cell phones and started send text messages.
"Why, Wenchie, what's wrong with that? It's not like they were talking. Why would that bother you?"
First -- it's the principle. If you don't want to watch a movie, do not go to a movie theatre. It's really quite simple. I do not want to climb rocks; therefore, I do not go rock climbing. See how that works?
Secondly -- take your cell phone, go shut yourself in a dark closet, and open it up. Those things are bright! Brighter than you think! I'm serious! Do it right now!
I was trying ever so hard to get into M. Night's vision, but those little bastards kept burning little holes into my retinas, constantly with the texting and the phones and open, close, open close. It was like a swarm of blue fireflies in my peripheral vision. SO annoying.
I gave them some time to settle down, and when they didn't, I leaned over and whispered, "Would you guys put your cells phones away, please? The light is really annoying. Thanks."
See? Completely calm and polite.
And the older boy goes, "We're sorry, ma'am," in a tone of voice that said, "Shut your hole, grandma."
But whatever. They stopped. For a little while.
And then they started up again when, apparently, one of the girls got dumped via text message. She started crying and ran out of the theatre, and one of the boys ran after her. The two left immediately whipped out their phones and started texting the news to the entire Chicagoland area.
More. Blinding. Light.
Then the other two returned, and they all started talking about what an asshole Tyler is, or whatever.
By this time, Husband smelled the smoke coming out of my ears, so he tried to be my hero by leaning over to the kids and going, "Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
*sigh* Never a good move. It immediately became a joke to the kids, who started shushing everyone else in the theatre and each other and all that shit.
Finally, I leaned over and said, in my outside-voice, "Hey! Either turn off your goddamn phones or get the fuck out of here, because you're not watching the movie anyway, and I'm really sick of your shit!"
Husband wanted to die, but the brats were thoroughly shamed, for much longer than I thought they'd be. They only required one more, "Shut the fuck up!" from me during the remainder of the movie. Isn't that sweet?
See, this is why swearing is an important part of one's vocabulary. Because if I'm anti-social enough to loudly curse my head off in a public venue, maybe I'm just nuts enough to throw down with the cast of "Dawson's Creek."
And they sure ran outta there once the movie was over.
This is why I love Netflix.
Comments
Oh. My. God! My friend and I also went to see Lady in the Water. ALSO on a Tuesday for the same reasons that you list. And even though there were only 5 of us in the theater (total) 2 of those 5 were an annoying teenage couple who TALKED and LAUGHED AT INAPPROPRIATE TIMES the WHOLE TIME. I wish Super Bitch would patrol my theater.
Posted by: Kate at August 15, 2006 01:56 PM
I think I've found my calling.
Posted by: Wenchie at August 15, 2006 02:29 PM
You are the wind beneath my... excuse me for a moment...
*hrelf*
...wings.
Posted by: Uncle Twitchy at August 15, 2006 05:02 PM
What is it with that film? I went on a weekday, had a couple with a 3 year old sit behind me. The mom thought it would be good to run a real time traslation service into kiddy vocab, amps on 500, for the first 10 minutes of the film. We turned around and ask them to either shut up or leave. They got huffy and told us their kid couldn't enjoy the film if they didn't do that. We all turned around and stared at them, with our mouths hanging open. They finally left. Crap. When did parents get so freaking selfish?
Posted by: elle at August 16, 2006 10:54 AM
I'm doing the calculations right now, if I can swing it I'll pay you to got to movies with them. I go to the theater about twice a year.
Posted by: Hope at August 16, 2006 11:58 AM
Holy crap on a cracker I sound like a fricken imbecile in my last comment. I wish I could claim I was drunk when I typed that, but sadly no. If it makes no sense, I won't be offended if you don't post it :)
Posted by: Hope at August 17, 2006 11:12 AM
Babies don't belong inside theatres. I took mine to the drive in and let them fall asleep in thier carseat, then sat outside. The only way.
Posted by: Jocelyn at August 18, 2006 12:41 PM