Pick your seat!

I was listening to the Derek the Blind Movie Reviewer on the the edge this morning and realized that there are several movies out that I would be interested in seeing. Most people would just plan to go see a flick this weekend, but I have issues with going to the movies. In fact that last time I was in the movie theater was to see White Chicks.

I have a phobia about my personal space. I don't mind having my friends or family entering my "safety circle", but random individuals...that's another story.

I never go to a movie the first three weeks of being released. A sold out theater is my inner circle of hell. If I do actually go to a theater I like to be there early so that I can scope out the joint and get a suitable seat. Picking a seat is take serious consideration. I don't want to be to close to the front, I have no interest in the DNA rows which are the famous back rows...I was a teen I know first hand what goes on there, it should be quarantined. I like the short rows that have only 3 or 5 seats in them. This lessens the chance of having some irritating fuck sit down beside me.

I remember being out with hubby for a date night and we went to the show. I cannot even tell you what we saw, how sad. I like to claim that I have ADD, but in reality I am just impatient and easily distracted. I remember the theater being quite full, but we were able to find suitable seating in one of the short rows. So the movie is just about to start and this guy comes over and parks his ass right beside me. I sort of look over my shoulder and to the side to seem if indeed this was the only available seat, it was not. I would never cozy up to someone that I didn't know, his thought process when he selected his seat was clearly the furthest from mine.

His guy we'll call him Dick, has taken over the arm rest and now I am sitting there squashed between my hubby and Dick as the lights dim. Sitting in the dark with a random stranger brushing up against your arm is a complete violation of personal space. About a half hour has passed and I am trying to focus on the movie and hopefully laps into my happy place when Dick starts moving around and getting restless. I look over and he is now digging in his knapsack. He pulls out a can of pop, cracks it open and places a straw in it. Super....I thought that when he came in with no food that this was my silver lining, but I was wrong, he's just cheap.

Back to the movie....crowd laughing, someone coughs, oops someone else coughs, another, then another! Good Lord shut up...TB is spreading like wild fire apparently, must be something that mutated from the DNA rows.

okay...movie focus....crowd laughing, I am lost due to the excessive coughing but I think I can pick it up. She love him, he loves....Russel, no wait he doesn't love Russel, Dick is rustling again. I look over and good old Dick has dug out a ziplock bag of baby carrots. He is ramming 2 in at a time in his bong hole. Crunch crunch crunch.....heavy nasal breathing.....Crunch crunch crunch....heavy nasal breathing...Crunch, oh I am going to lose my mind. Hearing someone chewing is my ultimate pet peeve. It really makes me want to harm people. Dick proceeds with his snack.

Okay Okay movie...right...I sit twitching with every crunch and am desperately wanting to get lost in this movie, but I so distracted. Look over at hubby...fixated. Okay you can do this. We must be an hour in or more by now. She loves him, he may love her, this girl...I don't know who she is, why are they in the desert now, they were in the city? Oh he's having flashbacks to the desert, no he's dreaming we're okay their in the city....SSLLUURRPPP!!!!!!!

Dick is going to town on that straw and is trying ever so hard to get that very last drop. See Dick, See Dick chase a drop of pop around the bottom of the can, See dick lose consciousness, See Kate twitching with a bloody fist. I didn't really hit him, but I wanted to!

I have now lost all interest and hope in ever understanding the plot to this movie. Everyone else including hubby and Dick seem to be enjoying it. I guess the best I can do is sit here and try to assume myself without harming Dick. I am getting anxious and can think of a thousand things I could be doing instead of this. I start getting restless myself and then it occurs to me that my feet are stuck to the floor. What the hell, as I peel my shoes up from the stick. That's disgusting, are they not cleaning this place between shows. I am sure one would notice pop running down the rows, I guess not! Oh God I hope it is pop and not run off from the DNA rows. I wonder how many dirty arms have been on these arm rest? Peel my feet up again, "that is some serious stick". Oh God that gross. I bet I am sitting in a fart seat. Yep that is a seat that has been repeatedly farted in...sick. I can feel myself getting hot and just as I about to bolt from the theater the lights come up. There is a calming hum from everyone talking about the movie. I look over at Dick and he is packing up his knapsack, hubby interrupts my snarling glare and asks me how I liked the movie? I basically shovel him into the isle and stated, "it was frick'n wonderful...2 hours and 15 minutes that I'll never get back!