Monday, December 11, 2006

I Am Hard Core

Everyone knows that I'm a nerd for movies. I love going to the movies, I love buying the tickets in advance, I love getting there an hour early to get the perfect seats, and I love the fifteen minutes of previews before the movie starts. If I miss the trailers, then its not even worth it for me to see the movie, because the trailers are half the fun. But this weekend, I took my hard coreness to a new level.

After my Saturday night date stood me up (that's right, he asked me out a week in advance, and then never called. When he finally called me the next day and I confronted him about his lack of courtesy, decency and manners, his response was, "You could've called me." Oh, right, I forgot. I'll track you down when you're the one who asked me out. His next response? "So, do you want to go out next weekend?" I give him credit for having the audacity and the balls.)

So, after my Saturday night date stood me up, I decided to go out with Yanaj and see Casino Royale for the third time. Yes, the third time. Get off my back.

We got to the theater about an hour early - not on purpose, but we were meeting there and just happened to be really early. We were the first ones in line outside the theater. I'm not sure if there was even supposed to be a line, or if people just assumed and fell in behind us. Either way, I think its fair to say that I was a trendsetter.

Yanaj and I had the perfect entrance strategy to ensure perfect seats - we split up and each took a different door, then met in the middle of the perfect row. Our plan was executed perfectly, we had perfect seats, and settled in with our popcorn and soda (which had been scored for free thanks to my clever wit, but that's a story for another time). The point is, everything was perfect and I was eagerly anticipating the cinematic experience.

Five minutes before the movie was supposed to start, something happened that I've never experienced in a movie theater before. The screen shut off, the fire alarm went off, a bright light started flashing, and a robotic voice came on saying, "Attention! An emergency has been reported! Please evacuate the theater using the nearest emergency exit!" Over and over. The theater started to empty in a panic as people pushed their way to the doors. Mayem was ensuing, babies were crying, some guy was shouting, "Women and children first! Into the lifeboats!" Oh wait, not that last part. But there was a general panic as people swarmed like cattle.

Yanaj looked at me, semi-worried as I continued to eat my popcorn and ignored the bustle around me. "Aren't we going to leave?" she asked.

I had a brief internal debate as I considered my next move. I knew that the lobby would be full of a thousand people all trying to squeeze through the doors, and no one had come in to tell us we had to leave, so how much of an emergency could it be?

"I don't want to lose our seats!" I reasoned. Some kid probably pulled the fire alarm somewhere, and by the time everyone else figured it out, we'd lose our perfect movie placement. "But what if we burn?" she said.

I grabbed her by the shoulders, looked her in the eye and said, "If we burn, then we burn in the perfect seats, and that's all that matters! Have a little perspective!!" Besides, according to Bone Senior, burning in the perfect seats would be a very fitting way for me to die.

In the end, we didn't burn. We patiently waited for about twenty minutes, while Yanaj nearly had a seizure from the flashing light. And when everyone else filed back into the theater, my only thought was, "Suckers!" But what's most important is that we didn't lose our seats, and we even got raincheck tickets for the inconvenience. And thanks once again to my clever wit, I got three raincheck tickets.

What's funny about this is that I, the Rosa Parks of the Cinemark theater, wouldn't give up my seat in the middle of an emergency, and it wasn't even my first time seeing the movie. It's not like I didn't already know what happens. It's not like I was going to miss out on anything major. It was my third time seeing the movie.

Nothing comes between me and the perfect seats. That's just how I roll.


stupidramblings said...

Way to take a stand. Now those emergencies will know who's boss. Next up, the "attention attention signal you just heard" being followed by a helpful life-tip or a recipe or something.

The Rules said...

It's always been my firm position that the penalty for standing a girl up should be castration. Asking you out again may have been ballsy, but he was probably just trying to use 'em one last time before getting snipped.

Erin said...

you are insanse...but i love you.

barb said...

hmmm. sort of like a martyr, but not.

Andi Mae said...

So no one came at you with one of those orange traffic cones on a flashlight and escorted you out? I'm impressed.

bone senior said...

i think you deserve lifetime free movie passes. you are THAT dedicated. i would wager that you single-handedly keep 75% of the movie industry in business. maybe you should be the subject of one of those anti-piracy commercials:

[camera slowly pans out, revealing a despondent bone junior, sitting on a warehouse floor, holding a box of popcorn and a soda]
"where would bone junior sit if there were no movies? piracy doesn't just hurt the big wigs--it also hurts the devotees who live (and would die) for the perfect seats."