Thanks to my second job, I haven't had five minutes to myself this entire fucking week. I mean, yeah, I'm going to get tons of money, but at this point, The only thing keeping my arms attached to the rest of me is will power and superglue. Thankfully, I managed to catch Wall-E before having to go to job #1 (Fuck you. Wall-E is the shit), and while it was nice to finally have some ME time, the experience has pretty much destroyed my faith in God. No, the movie wasn't some attack on Christianity, like some Psycho-freaking God-wads say they are, it's the people who see movies that kills my belief in a higher power.
First off, we have the old folks who, when given the ability to sit anywhere, ANYWHERE in the goddamn theatre, chose to sit DIRECTLY BEHIND ME. Call me ageist if you want to, I don't care, but they spent the entire time talking. Not just about the movie, but about anything that bothered them in the slightest. Yes, I know, I'm calling the kettle bitchy on this one, but at least my ranting is on the internet and not during a movie.
Then came the nuclear family, with the waspy mom an the waspy dad and the 2.5 brats who will end up in rehab because mommy and daddy don't know how to say "no". And guess where they sat? RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. I was like the meat in a "Pray for the sweet icy grip of death" sammich. The little shits screamed and ran around and complained about how they didn't like the candy in their Kiddie-Coronary combo.
At last, the theatre darkened. I figured anyone could be an asshole when it was still lit, but everyone knows a darkened theatre is the universal code for "Shut the fuck up and start shoveling fistfuls of grease down your face holes". Apparently, they didn't get the memo. I had gone through two previews (a part I actually like), while both sides of my hell sandwich continued to talk. I was at that magical stage of frustration where you would like nothing more than to fellate the business end of a .22, when THIS came on.
The children in front of me shrieked with laughter. And not the cute shrieking, either. This was a full on Banshee Shriek of the damned. Their parents tuned the episode out, while I searched desperately for something to staunch the blood flow of my now burst ears. The elderly foursome behind me giggled amongst themselves, remarked what a nice movie it would be, then resumed their non-sequitor discussion.
Up until this point, I refused to move from my seat because a) it would be rude, and b) it would be admitting defeat. But I had enough. Nothing could have kept me in that chair. I grabbed my Diet Pepsi the size of my head, got up, and walked as far away from them as I possibly could. And here's the kicker: they had the nerve, no, the motherfucking GALL to give me the stink eye as I walked away. It was like, "How dare you be annoyed by our incessant talking and general lack of courtesy!".
The movie itself was amazing. It was beautiful, sad, and genuinely well written, even if I thought at times the message was being treated like a blunt object with which to smack around the audience. But the whole thing was just tainted by the common re-res behind me. It's not bad enough that you can't behave in a civilized manner after I fork over $10 for some peace and quiet, but do you have to buy into some bullshit movie about dancing, rapping rat-dogs? I have a friend who has admitted that everytime he sees a chihuahua, he gets the uncontrolable urge to punt the damn thing like a football. I can see why he'd think that.
I'm going to say this once, and only once: When you go to a movie, either shut up, or wait for the DVD to come out. And for the love of Godtopus, have a little self-respect: don't laugh at lowest-common-denominator jokes. You look like a fucking idiot.
Okay, rant's done. It's back to making fun of celebrities.