PC-Friends.com - A Night at the Movies

Login Status

Private Messages

no new

SF Traffic Map

Click below for an interactive map showing traffic conditions in the SF Bay Area
Traffic Map

Firefox AdSense Referral

Gas Buddy

Data Recovery Service

Hard drive crash? Need your data? We can save it!

PC-Friends.com is proud to offer DriveSavers' data recovery services. When you mention our Reseller ID#DS17362, you receive a discount on your data recovery and you contribute to our website!

For more information, click here , OR simply visit their web site at www.drivesavers.com to learn more or:

Call DriveSavers today to receive an immediate estimate: 800-440-1904

5 Star shine

This polish really lasts! Dirt slides off with a gentle spray! And it's easy to apply.

You can support PC-Friends.com by ordering this revolutionary paint protection system for your car by clicking on the image above. For more information, click here .

Snow

tahoe.dock.jpg

pool.logo.832x200.jpg

Latest Articles

SJMN Local News

Syndicate

A Night at the Movies

Tag it:

Written by Doc Wright
Sunday, 17 July 2005
So, tonight, my wife and I went to the local movie theatre to see one of her grand old fav's re-done by the "Spielburg crew" , "War of the Worlds". Just taking in a show and trying to enjoy the evening. The teenaged boy sitting behind me apparently had a different idea of what constitutes enjoyment, though, as he began his assault on good manners and decency shortly after the previews began. He told lewd jokes. He made asinine comments. He slurped and shook his ice-filled soda, letting out an obnoxious "aaaaaaaaaaahhhh" after each sip. He crinkled his snack packaging every few minutes. He kicked the back of my seat. When the movie started and the narration began, I turned around and said, "The movie is starting, would you please be quiet?" He responded, "It hasn't started." To which I replied, as politely as I had asked, "The movie is starting. Please be quiet." I returned to watching the show. Forty minutes into the film I couldn't take it anymore. I had suffered my last crinkle, my last guffaw, my last "aaaaaaaaaaaaah." J must have been feeling similarly, as we both leapt to our feet at the same moment. We headed out to get the manager. As soon as I saw his slight frame, his moustache, his rumpled gray hair, his weak demeanor, I knew I had wasted my time. Sure, he came into the theatre, retrieved the boy, took him out in the corridor, and gave him his warning. He even walked the boy back into the theatre and baby-sat for awhile. And, you know now just as I did then that, as soon as the manager left, the boy would begin his antics again. I knew there was nothing I could do about it. I had to sit there and endure the boy's ridiculousness. I considered leaving, of course, but decided that, to make my point, I had to stay. No braces-wearing teenager was going to run me out of the show. Not even when he said, repeatedly, "Mmmmmmmmmm....cotton candy.....want some cotton candy.....mmmmm....cotton candy." So...I stayed. And I tried to watch the movie, tried not to lunge over the back of my seat and rip the cotton candy packaging from his stupid, sticky fingers. I tried to focus on the plot-line. He kicked my seat. I tried to follow the symbols. He slurped his drink. I tried to empathize with the characters. He smacked his lips, made his jokes, and continued to be the consummate, the SUPERLATIVE asswipe...right to the end of the movie. As my wife and I left the theatre, the boy stood outside with his friends, a cell phone in each of their hands, all four of them clearly waiting for a ride. We walked along, relyaing our opinions of the movie to each other, and, as luck would have it, the conversation allowed me to say (somewhat more loudly than usual) just as we passed the group, "It would have been more enjoyable if people had been quiet during the show." And of course the asswipe interjected into our conversation and said, "Yeah, it would have." And then he laughed a laugh I hope is never laughed in my direction again. I tried to ignore it, I tried to proceed to the car. I tried to behave. And then he did it again and again. LOUDER. To be sure I heard it. That's when I turned around, walked back to him, and gave him a piece of my mind. I called the little shit out on his obnoxious antics. ("It wasn't me.") Louder, I suggested I wait for his parents to arrive so that I could take the matter up with them. ("Uuuuhhhhhhh, I think I'll just going to walk home." His visage changed from *****y to nervous.) Loudest, I insisted he owed me, and my wife, and everyone watching that particular show an apology for his crappy behavior. And do you know what the spoiled little turd said? "I'm sorry for my crappy behavior." "You're sorry?" I demanded. "Yeaahhhh." "What's that? I didn't hear you." "Yeaaaah." "Good." I suggested we continue to wait for his parents. The boy fondled his phone and shifted his weight. "Uuuhhhh, I'm just going to walk home now." And, so, he took off with his buddy down the strip-mall sidewalk, afraid, I think, his parent(s) would pull up and see this spectacle. It was bad enough he had been embarassed and, worse, forced to apologize to the angry old man--um, ME--in front of his friends. As we walked out to our car, an older man with a male passenger pulled up next to us. "I just wanted to applaud you for doing that." He leaned out of his window and clapped. "The management won't do anything about those kids, and [gesturing toward the theatre] we hardly even come up here anymore because of them. So, thank you. Just wanted to say that." His much younger passenger was smiling and nodding in agreement. I said something about the situation, smiled, thanked him, and continued on to the car, where, moments later, I realized that I am officially old. Not old as in "I have reached a particular age," but OLD as in, "I'm-not-putting-up-with-any-whipper-snappers-at-the-movies." Old as in "why can't parents teach their kids any manners?" old. Old as in "back in MY day, the manager would have sent 'em out on their ass" old. Ther'se a new, computer-generated, sheriff in town, Red Ryder -
Last Updated ( Tuesday, 14 November 2006 )

< Prev		Next >

[ Back ]