(part two)
Christina's smile disappears.
Trailers. Why does it have to be trailers?
And yes, she feels obligated to say what is okay, what sucks, whats funny, and whats stupid. I laugh at one trailer, because it was funny, and I get a silent stare from her.
Thankfully, she's a little excited by the Die Hard one. Good. Buys me some time. As causally talking is out of the question, at least some peace can be earned. I'm hoping when Pirates rolls up, she'll be so grabbed by the spectacle, it'll turn the whole night around. She likes Johnny Depp. She liked the first one, and most of the second. She is fisting a brew as the movie starts. She's out with someone who'll try to not annoy her (that's me). It's supposed to be spectacular. I know it will be, even at 3 hours. The way I see it, if I'm entertained at all for the amount of time required...I had a great day! Pretty simple really.
Then I hear: "oh, GOD!!!! When is this movie going to stop being boring..."
And I hear the sound of the lid being slammed shut on my coffin.
"This is so slow!" "That's stupid!" "That so wouldn't work!" "That looks fake" "This is as boring as Spider-man 3!" "Pour me a beer!" "How long is this movie?" "The first one was better!"
At one point she turns to me and asked what did Will say to Elizabeth. "He said he couldn't live without her..." I whisper in her ear.
"Heh?!"
"He said...HE COULDN"T LIVE WITHOUT HER"
She looks at me then throws her hands up in disgust. "I hate this love story. It's just like Spider-man 3! That ruined it all!"
I sink back down into the cushions and pray for the film strip to actually brake. At the two hour mark, I whisper to her I'll be back. Bathroom.
Let me tell you, I didn't really have to go the the bathroom. I have the bladder of a Olympian God...A GOD I SAY! Three hours is nothing. But I needed an excuse to just...get away for a bit. Even during a movie I really really wanted to see. This is just not happening.
I'm in the men's room sitting in an empty stall, thinking. Just thinking. What the hell went wrong? What went wrong? Oh my god, it's like being on a date with your cranky grandmother. And I bury my head in my hands. I've been here, sitting, standing, pacing the tile floor for 10 minutes. Any more than this and I either stretch credibility, or Christine will assume I really have terrible pee problems. I'm ready to have her assume that, actually.
I leave the bathroom and grab my ticket to get back in the theater, almost hoping, almost, that I can't find it and they wont let me back in. I see the exit out of the Cinetopia. I see windowed doors beacon outside. I see freedom. I see release. It would be so easy. But I open my hand, and see the ticket weighing heavy there. And, I feel so guilty for even entertaining the slight thought.
I have been told I am the "guardian healer". I stick by people no matter what. And sometimes, you pay the price. I know what it's like to not have people care about you. I know how it feels to have someone...anyone...care. Christina might be crude and unappreciative of me. Even abusive on some level. But I was...no, am...her friend because I am able to see beyond that. I see what she could be if she were honestly loved and cared for. that's my gift, people tell me. I tell them, that's my curse.
"Where were you?!", Christina asks a little too loudly in the darkened theater.
"I got you some popcorn." I say as I slide back beside her and put the greasy garlic and cheese bucket between us. I can't see her face in the dark, as my eyes haven't adjusted yet, but she's... quiet. Perhaps I cracked her shell with my compassion. Maybe...
"I told you I didn't want that! I'm trying to lose weight. And this beer sucks too!"
It's a long 45 minutes to the end credits.
As the credits roll, I tell her we gotta stay for the very end. I'd heard that there's a very cool coda at the very end. A can't miss moment. Will this redeem the...
"well, I'M not sitting here! I'm going. YOU can stay if you want!" And she pushes off to the lobby. I sigh and after a minute I follow. I want to be her friend. When i see her walking about, I meet up with her and she asks me if I saw the ending to the stupid movie. I lie and say I didn't feel like watching it, but my heart dropped.
I actually ran a red light and flipped an illegal u-turn to get her home. I asked her which housing unit was hers. It was the one...and I'm not kidding...with the old couch in the yard. Explains the beer, I guess.
I go home and ruminate. That and very pathetically look up a spoiler on the Internet on what exactly the Pirates ending coda was. I teared up a little bit when I read it, It was so bloody awesome...
_________________________
The next day at work. I see Christina talking to the others about our movie night and how much the Pirates movie was so awful (I liked it!). Then someone asked Christina if she enjoyed herself. She looks at me and gives me...a smile. Her eyes light up so much that it almost makes me forget yesterday.
"Oh yeah! Me and Mike had a great time! We gotta go see Hostel 2 together next week!"
Ah, 'Tina. Love the girl, but jeez... she did say she's paying though...
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Michael: At Wits End (part 1)
This is the fantastic tale of terror and drunken adventure on the high seas of social interaction.
This, is the story of going to see Pirates of the Caribbean: At Worlds End with...Christina.
Don't get me wrong, I like Christina. She's a good person, if somewhat lacking in social skills. And when we decided we'd see Pirates together, I didn't think anything more of that besides seeing a movie with a friend. But, on Friday night, hours before I was to pick her up, I got this...feeling...
A feeling of, almost...dread. And I was thinking perhaps I should call Christina and say that I couldn't make it. That I got a flat tire. That I shattered my skull in a freak hat accident. That my pants are caught on a nail that I can't extrude myself from. Anything. I'll gladly kiss off the tickets, but somehow, something was telling me...don't go...
But like any good mythological tale, the hero ignores the obvious foreshadowing and finds himself in dante's hell. I ignored the fact that Christina was getting more and more cranky and irritable at work. She snapped at me and barked orders. When she asked me a day before if I could also get tickets for her mother as well, I just ignored that request. Her recent obsession with her "ex-boyfriend", Ron. Now, this is a guy who she was going to leave and move out with her Mom to get away from the fact that the only reason she was still living with this person, who she loathes, is so that she can afford rent. Ever since he was arrested in another state for a baggie of "toke smoke", He's in jail for 70 some days and now...Christina misses him soooo much.
All of it was so clear. There was a signpost up ahead, and Rod Serling was welcoming me into the Twilight Zone. The Greek chorus was singing, and my spider sense was warning me on overtime with massive tingling. Yet, I found myself driving to Christina's to pick her up for a movie night.
As soon as she entered the cab of my Beetle, I was instantly intoxicated...by the fumes of cheap beer that waifed off of her. Turns out that she shared a few Pabst Blue Ribbon with her neighbor friend. After all, he bought himself a case. You have to be sociable when a creepy drunk guy who lives next to you offers you alcohol, right?
When we arrived at the theater, she clearly stated that we had better park near the front door, because she doesn't want to walk far. Remember when I said foreshadowing? This was fore-foreshadowing. This was the trailer the the film of how my evening would go.
As soon as I walked through the doors, Christina loudly exclaimed how she needs a drink. The theater we went to serves drinks in a "living room" setup. I think that's why 'Tina wanted to go here for Pirates. As we waited in line she got a menu and was immediately angry and irritated that there were only ales and not mixed drinks. She actually got a bit pissed at me because I didn't know. She complained loudly about that. She complained that we were in a line. she complained that we had BETTER be in the right line. She bitched about the living room theater setting. And there had better NOT be ANY trailers before the movie...She absolutely hates trailers.
After complaining about the location of the seats, and she did pick where she wanted to sit, she complained out the service. Y'see, this theater had waiters to get you food and drink. I was starting to get irritated by all this piss and vinegar she was dishing out. She either bitched about something, or she was ignoring that I was there. What fun. When I did get up:
"where are you going?!"
"um...going to the snack bar...want something? I can get whatever you'd like..."
"Are trying to get me fat?! Hell no I don't want anything. If I even small some of that that garlic butter popcorn, I won't be able to stop eating it and i won't lose enough weight for summer! Why are you even asking? "
"so...that's a no I guess...I'll be back then without any temptations..."
"...and get me a diet coke..."
I had more fun at the snack line at this point. Got us a drink and a pizza slice that I scarfed at the doorway of the theater. Didn't want to create temptation. made sure I had no evidence of food and walked back in with our drinks...
"Wheres the popcorn!!!!???"
"ba-wha...But you said you didn't want...."
"I know what I said! But I can smell the popcorn and I was hoping you'd get some anyway! That would have been thoughtful"
"I could go back if you wanted it now..."
"No...don't bother. How long till the movie starts anyway?
"18 minutes."
"Godammit!!! I'm getting sick of just sitting here!!!"
Eighteen very long minutes later, the room darkened and the tell tale pop of surround sound speakers turning on was a welcome noise. Christine actually smiled at me, as she adjusted her seat and positioned her liquor and diet Pepsi (thank god they had Pepsi...she hates coke). Maybe, this won't be so bad after all. Maybe, she'll be excited and happy about the movie. maybe this little negative patch has passed...
And then the trailers begin...
(End of part one)
This, is the story of going to see Pirates of the Caribbean: At Worlds End with...Christina.
Don't get me wrong, I like Christina. She's a good person, if somewhat lacking in social skills. And when we decided we'd see Pirates together, I didn't think anything more of that besides seeing a movie with a friend. But, on Friday night, hours before I was to pick her up, I got this...feeling...
A feeling of, almost...dread. And I was thinking perhaps I should call Christina and say that I couldn't make it. That I got a flat tire. That I shattered my skull in a freak hat accident. That my pants are caught on a nail that I can't extrude myself from. Anything. I'll gladly kiss off the tickets, but somehow, something was telling me...don't go...
But like any good mythological tale, the hero ignores the obvious foreshadowing and finds himself in dante's hell. I ignored the fact that Christina was getting more and more cranky and irritable at work. She snapped at me and barked orders. When she asked me a day before if I could also get tickets for her mother as well, I just ignored that request. Her recent obsession with her "ex-boyfriend", Ron. Now, this is a guy who she was going to leave and move out with her Mom to get away from the fact that the only reason she was still living with this person, who she loathes, is so that she can afford rent. Ever since he was arrested in another state for a baggie of "toke smoke", He's in jail for 70 some days and now...Christina misses him soooo much.
All of it was so clear. There was a signpost up ahead, and Rod Serling was welcoming me into the Twilight Zone. The Greek chorus was singing, and my spider sense was warning me on overtime with massive tingling. Yet, I found myself driving to Christina's to pick her up for a movie night.
As soon as she entered the cab of my Beetle, I was instantly intoxicated...by the fumes of cheap beer that waifed off of her. Turns out that she shared a few Pabst Blue Ribbon with her neighbor friend. After all, he bought himself a case. You have to be sociable when a creepy drunk guy who lives next to you offers you alcohol, right?
When we arrived at the theater, she clearly stated that we had better park near the front door, because she doesn't want to walk far. Remember when I said foreshadowing? This was fore-foreshadowing. This was the trailer the the film of how my evening would go.
As soon as I walked through the doors, Christina loudly exclaimed how she needs a drink. The theater we went to serves drinks in a "living room" setup. I think that's why 'Tina wanted to go here for Pirates. As we waited in line she got a menu and was immediately angry and irritated that there were only ales and not mixed drinks. She actually got a bit pissed at me because I didn't know. She complained loudly about that. She complained that we were in a line. she complained that we had BETTER be in the right line. She bitched about the living room theater setting. And there had better NOT be ANY trailers before the movie...She absolutely hates trailers.
After complaining about the location of the seats, and she did pick where she wanted to sit, she complained out the service. Y'see, this theater had waiters to get you food and drink. I was starting to get irritated by all this piss and vinegar she was dishing out. She either bitched about something, or she was ignoring that I was there. What fun. When I did get up:
"where are you going?!"
"um...going to the snack bar...want something? I can get whatever you'd like..."
"Are trying to get me fat?! Hell no I don't want anything. If I even small some of that that garlic butter popcorn, I won't be able to stop eating it and i won't lose enough weight for summer! Why are you even asking? "
"so...that's a no I guess...I'll be back then without any temptations..."
"...and get me a diet coke..."
I had more fun at the snack line at this point. Got us a drink and a pizza slice that I scarfed at the doorway of the theater. Didn't want to create temptation. made sure I had no evidence of food and walked back in with our drinks...
"Wheres the popcorn!!!!???"
"ba-wha...But you said you didn't want...."
"I know what I said! But I can smell the popcorn and I was hoping you'd get some anyway! That would have been thoughtful"
"I could go back if you wanted it now..."
"No...don't bother. How long till the movie starts anyway?
"18 minutes."
"Godammit!!! I'm getting sick of just sitting here!!!"
Eighteen very long minutes later, the room darkened and the tell tale pop of surround sound speakers turning on was a welcome noise. Christine actually smiled at me, as she adjusted her seat and positioned her liquor and diet Pepsi (thank god they had Pepsi...she hates coke). Maybe, this won't be so bad after all. Maybe, she'll be excited and happy about the movie. maybe this little negative patch has passed...
And then the trailers begin...
(End of part one)
Monday, May 21, 2007
What Happens on a Birthday?
After a restless night of trying to decide if it's actually safe to do anything on my Birthday, I am awaken by an angry cat sticking his poisoned fangs into my scalp. Seems it doesn't really matter what day it is, a cats gotta eat.
I figure lets see all the email benedictions I probably got! Yeah, sure, I don't usually receive any personal correspondence, but it's a birthday! And, I'm actually a little positive about this one. Sure, Heather doesn't want to be my friend anymore, even after I made sure she had the best Birthday she could possibly have. Sure, I torpedoed my own expectations as to not get disappointed (and ironically, I wasn't disappointed! How does THAT work, eh?). Sure I didn't expect any gifts or cards or cake, because of the global paper and foodstuffs shortages after the season finale of "Hells Kitchen". But I'm awkwardly positive that something might happily surprise me.
My first email? "Flush 20 pounds of excess out of your colon". How thoughtful!
The only birthday card i got was this one from Pepsi. I quite like the KatHead version, actually.
So I know the few people at my work wants me to meet them for drinks at Applebees later that evening, and I know that Christina will need a ride, so I waste my day away washing my car and driving around town. Now that I think about it, I think I was trying to defy my legacy of motor vehicles and special days. Around three o' clock, my phone rings, and I am MORE than excited! Someone is calling me today to wish me a Happy Birthday!! Is it my family? Is it my friends? Is it going to be a grand day? I snap open the phone and almost yell enthusiastically a "Hello?"
And I hear the voice of Clint Eastwood who just swallowed some razor blades and a bottle brush.
"ugh..er...hello? ...Mike? ...I just woke up..." my god....that's Christina?
It seems she was out all last night with her friends and went to two bars getting drunk. She's a bit hung over, and she's going back to sleep to see if her head will settle. I'm to call her at 4pm to wake her. Well, the birthday is starting out with some texture, isn't it?
So, I dress up very nice and shave and clip and comb and delouse. I'm brilliant! And i text Christina who gives the go-ahead for a pickup. She'll meet me in a 711 parking lot, which is a good thing if I need some rolling papers, a seven dollar can of ravioli, or a tube stake cheeseburger in a flat second. we then travel to Applebees, and the car is unusually quiet. I'm guessing she's a bit dehydrated. But she did have the strength to tell me that she needs to be home by 8pm to possibly receive a phone call from Ron, her "boyfriend" who's on day 14 of a 70 day jail time session.
Let me tell you this: I have found that nothing is much more annoying than those Sidekick phones. All the evening from the car to the restaurant, Christina would whip out her sidekick and flip about the screen to see if anyone would call. She'd sometimes thumb type a massive message back to some anonymous person.
As soon as we arrive, she calls to see where everyone is at. They're going to be a hour or so late. Meantime, Christina is producing that damn Sidekick out of midair every few minutes. I'm just sitting there with nothing to say and feeling very alone. At one point Christina excuses herself and retreats outside for a smoke and a texting session.
the waiter comes up and starts to clear the table of all the silverware except for my own, and I say that there are six people showing up. Just then I see how pathetic i must look, all dressed up and sharing a big table with my imaginary friends. He gives me a look like, "of course you are, sir..." and goes off...just as Christina comes back.
"Did you order drinks?" Well, no I didn't
"We need to order drinks and food now while it's happy hour!" And she attempts to yell across the restaurant they we need service here. She orders two drinks as to save time. A bit of the hair of the dog, methinks. God, why do I even hang with her? It's like traveling with a boozy pirate.
Everyone starts to arrive, and Christina needs to leave now, as it's almost time for "The Ron Might Call from the Bighouse Show". She calls her mom to pick her up, it seems she planned this long before my actual "party", as her mom is there and awaiting for her outside. Now that's service. We have Kathy arrive, and I never knew how much that lady can knock back! She orders one drink, only to declare it isn't strong enough, and gets another one that's enough to make a hobo go blind! She orders two!
Arlene, my co-worker manager, arrives, but says she can't stay longer than one drink and some food to go. Yesterday, I asked Chris if she would show up. Who's Chris, you might ask? She's someone new at work who I find actually truely fascinating. I don't quite get a handle on her yet, but it's clear to me that it'll be interesting to find out eventually, and so far, she'd be the only person that would've actually talked to me here, and not two-fist a drink first... I ask Arlene if she's coming too.
Arlene kicks back her Manhattan, "Oh, she had a better offer." My heart sunk as I see everyone devour the appetizers. I don't blame Chris, as she told me later, that her friends were awaiting for her outside. It would have been cool, that's all.
Finally, as the waiter arrives to dish out the bill, Kathy speaks up, "It's Mikes Birthday. What do you guys do for that? Something free? A cake with candles? You sing happy Birthday?" At this point, I'd even go for what happened last year.
The waiter gave a squinty look, "Uh, we don't have candles due to fire regulations..."
"Well, do you sing happy birthday?"
"Um...no we don't..."
"Jesus...what do you have for a treat for him?"
My "treat" was a simple glass of vanilla Ice Cream and a straw.
I go home, make myself a swanson dinner and watch TV with the cat poking at the potatoes in the pocket of the black plastic tray.
And I think to myself, well, I didn't die, crap my pants, get set on fire, have a girlfriend cheat on me or brake up, smash up my car... And I'm having a nice warm dinner with my furry friend...
It wasn't such a bad day after all.
I figure lets see all the email benedictions I probably got! Yeah, sure, I don't usually receive any personal correspondence, but it's a birthday! And, I'm actually a little positive about this one. Sure, Heather doesn't want to be my friend anymore, even after I made sure she had the best Birthday she could possibly have. Sure, I torpedoed my own expectations as to not get disappointed (and ironically, I wasn't disappointed! How does THAT work, eh?). Sure I didn't expect any gifts or cards or cake, because of the global paper and foodstuffs shortages after the season finale of "Hells Kitchen". But I'm awkwardly positive that something might happily surprise me.
My first email? "Flush 20 pounds of excess out of your colon". How thoughtful!
The only birthday card i got was this one from Pepsi. I quite like the KatHead version, actually.
So I know the few people at my work wants me to meet them for drinks at Applebees later that evening, and I know that Christina will need a ride, so I waste my day away washing my car and driving around town. Now that I think about it, I think I was trying to defy my legacy of motor vehicles and special days. Around three o' clock, my phone rings, and I am MORE than excited! Someone is calling me today to wish me a Happy Birthday!! Is it my family? Is it my friends? Is it going to be a grand day? I snap open the phone and almost yell enthusiastically a "Hello?"
And I hear the voice of Clint Eastwood who just swallowed some razor blades and a bottle brush.
"ugh..er...hello? ...Mike? ...I just woke up..." my god....that's Christina?
It seems she was out all last night with her friends and went to two bars getting drunk. She's a bit hung over, and she's going back to sleep to see if her head will settle. I'm to call her at 4pm to wake her. Well, the birthday is starting out with some texture, isn't it?
So, I dress up very nice and shave and clip and comb and delouse. I'm brilliant! And i text Christina who gives the go-ahead for a pickup. She'll meet me in a 711 parking lot, which is a good thing if I need some rolling papers, a seven dollar can of ravioli, or a tube stake cheeseburger in a flat second. we then travel to Applebees, and the car is unusually quiet. I'm guessing she's a bit dehydrated. But she did have the strength to tell me that she needs to be home by 8pm to possibly receive a phone call from Ron, her "boyfriend" who's on day 14 of a 70 day jail time session.
Let me tell you this: I have found that nothing is much more annoying than those Sidekick phones. All the evening from the car to the restaurant, Christina would whip out her sidekick and flip about the screen to see if anyone would call. She'd sometimes thumb type a massive message back to some anonymous person.
As soon as we arrive, she calls to see where everyone is at. They're going to be a hour or so late. Meantime, Christina is producing that damn Sidekick out of midair every few minutes. I'm just sitting there with nothing to say and feeling very alone. At one point Christina excuses herself and retreats outside for a smoke and a texting session.
the waiter comes up and starts to clear the table of all the silverware except for my own, and I say that there are six people showing up. Just then I see how pathetic i must look, all dressed up and sharing a big table with my imaginary friends. He gives me a look like, "of course you are, sir..." and goes off...just as Christina comes back.
"Did you order drinks?" Well, no I didn't
"We need to order drinks and food now while it's happy hour!" And she attempts to yell across the restaurant they we need service here. She orders two drinks as to save time. A bit of the hair of the dog, methinks. God, why do I even hang with her? It's like traveling with a boozy pirate.
Everyone starts to arrive, and Christina needs to leave now, as it's almost time for "The Ron Might Call from the Bighouse Show". She calls her mom to pick her up, it seems she planned this long before my actual "party", as her mom is there and awaiting for her outside. Now that's service. We have Kathy arrive, and I never knew how much that lady can knock back! She orders one drink, only to declare it isn't strong enough, and gets another one that's enough to make a hobo go blind! She orders two!
Arlene, my co-worker manager, arrives, but says she can't stay longer than one drink and some food to go. Yesterday, I asked Chris if she would show up. Who's Chris, you might ask? She's someone new at work who I find actually truely fascinating. I don't quite get a handle on her yet, but it's clear to me that it'll be interesting to find out eventually, and so far, she'd be the only person that would've actually talked to me here, and not two-fist a drink first... I ask Arlene if she's coming too.
Arlene kicks back her Manhattan, "Oh, she had a better offer." My heart sunk as I see everyone devour the appetizers. I don't blame Chris, as she told me later, that her friends were awaiting for her outside. It would have been cool, that's all.
Finally, as the waiter arrives to dish out the bill, Kathy speaks up, "It's Mikes Birthday. What do you guys do for that? Something free? A cake with candles? You sing happy Birthday?" At this point, I'd even go for what happened last year.
The waiter gave a squinty look, "Uh, we don't have candles due to fire regulations..."
"Well, do you sing happy birthday?"
"Um...no we don't..."
"Jesus...what do you have for a treat for him?"
My "treat" was a simple glass of vanilla Ice Cream and a straw.
I go home, make myself a swanson dinner and watch TV with the cat poking at the potatoes in the pocket of the black plastic tray.
And I think to myself, well, I didn't die, crap my pants, get set on fire, have a girlfriend cheat on me or brake up, smash up my car... And I'm having a nice warm dinner with my furry friend...
It wasn't such a bad day after all.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Countdown to Doomsd...Birthday
It's only minutes away, and I just don't know how I feel about it.
I mean, it's not what I'd hope it would be.
I dunno if I blogged about it, but way back in January, when I found out that Heather wasn't getting a very good birthday, I decided that I'd take her and Kim out and have a great birthday dinner outing. And I said, I wanted today to be all about her. It was going to be, without question, HER day. They way I think everyone should be treated on their own special day. I didn't matter that I don't like mexican food, she did. And I truely beleive in the "do onto others..." mantra. For the first time, I was looking forward to my own birthday.
But It won't happen that way, now will it. Was I being selfish? Am I even allowed to be on the only day of the year where I can be "first"?
The people at work mention that I should meet them at Applebees tomarrow. I am on the fence if I should even go. It all seems more like a "we're going to a bar, you wanna come too since it's your birthday?" I can see myself going and there'll be people there I either don't know or don't socialize with. And they'll all talk about things I can't relate to, and it'll be just like all the parties i ever went to as a young adult: where I would just sit in the back and drink punch, then leave early. Honestly, do you really think I'd ruin their get together if i just go home? A birthday should be more than awkwardness. Kim says i should just go anyway.
I just think a birthday shouldn't be a "just go anyway" affair. I want my day. And I never ask for much.
Doesn't help that a woman customer at work used me to instill fear in her crying children. Thanks lady. She actually told her kid, "stop crying! See that man? He's getting mad at you!"
Why do parent threat their kids with me? I don't have the goal in life to be a real life boogyman to seal up a younglings emotions in public. I'm not even a big fat threataning looking guy. And I shaved today too.
Speaking of which, yesterday, I was at Target buying a fortune in flu and cough meds of all manifestations and sexual preferences, when I hear...oddly enough....a child crying and begging his mom to buy him something. Probably something Spider-manish I bet. When the mom said no and she finished talking about that, this lil' 5 year old child said, in a very clear voice:
"...you can GO TO HELL!!!!"
my keen detective like mind tells me the mother is probably a divorcee' who spends a lot of time on the phone screaming at her Ex. She probably ends each call with that line and a big ol' slam of the reciever.
Oh, and what the hell kind of birds crapped on my car last night?! It looks like tree dingos had intestinal problems on my hood! I mean, sometimes it's dead bugs and poop. But this is dead bugs sliced in half and toasted IN the poop! And not even a mushed bug. Theses bugs are half eaten and still have the terror on their buggy faces as they are half emersed in the tar they are slapped into! Whoever is pooping must be a meat eater bird like a vulture or a peruvian cave bat. I moved my poor car into a safer enviroment, like a lava pool.
Two minutes till midnight.
Then again, I may be totally wrong, and I might have a wonderful day full of surprises and laughter and great lifetime memories!
Midnight. Happy Birthday to me.
I am not joking. I just got up and stepped barefoot in fresh cat barf. Somewhere a feline is snickering.
I mean, it's not what I'd hope it would be.
I dunno if I blogged about it, but way back in January, when I found out that Heather wasn't getting a very good birthday, I decided that I'd take her and Kim out and have a great birthday dinner outing. And I said, I wanted today to be all about her. It was going to be, without question, HER day. They way I think everyone should be treated on their own special day. I didn't matter that I don't like mexican food, she did. And I truely beleive in the "do onto others..." mantra. For the first time, I was looking forward to my own birthday.
But It won't happen that way, now will it. Was I being selfish? Am I even allowed to be on the only day of the year where I can be "first"?
The people at work mention that I should meet them at Applebees tomarrow. I am on the fence if I should even go. It all seems more like a "we're going to a bar, you wanna come too since it's your birthday?" I can see myself going and there'll be people there I either don't know or don't socialize with. And they'll all talk about things I can't relate to, and it'll be just like all the parties i ever went to as a young adult: where I would just sit in the back and drink punch, then leave early. Honestly, do you really think I'd ruin their get together if i just go home? A birthday should be more than awkwardness. Kim says i should just go anyway.
I just think a birthday shouldn't be a "just go anyway" affair. I want my day. And I never ask for much.
Doesn't help that a woman customer at work used me to instill fear in her crying children. Thanks lady. She actually told her kid, "stop crying! See that man? He's getting mad at you!"
Why do parent threat their kids with me? I don't have the goal in life to be a real life boogyman to seal up a younglings emotions in public. I'm not even a big fat threataning looking guy. And I shaved today too.
Speaking of which, yesterday, I was at Target buying a fortune in flu and cough meds of all manifestations and sexual preferences, when I hear...oddly enough....a child crying and begging his mom to buy him something. Probably something Spider-manish I bet. When the mom said no and she finished talking about that, this lil' 5 year old child said, in a very clear voice:
"...you can GO TO HELL!!!!"
my keen detective like mind tells me the mother is probably a divorcee' who spends a lot of time on the phone screaming at her Ex. She probably ends each call with that line and a big ol' slam of the reciever.
Oh, and what the hell kind of birds crapped on my car last night?! It looks like tree dingos had intestinal problems on my hood! I mean, sometimes it's dead bugs and poop. But this is dead bugs sliced in half and toasted IN the poop! And not even a mushed bug. Theses bugs are half eaten and still have the terror on their buggy faces as they are half emersed in the tar they are slapped into! Whoever is pooping must be a meat eater bird like a vulture or a peruvian cave bat. I moved my poor car into a safer enviroment, like a lava pool.
Two minutes till midnight.
Then again, I may be totally wrong, and I might have a wonderful day full of surprises and laughter and great lifetime memories!
Midnight. Happy Birthday to me.
I am not joking. I just got up and stepped barefoot in fresh cat barf. Somewhere a feline is snickering.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
My Fearie Princess Watches Over Me
Today was Bad. Real bad. I actually thought I would die and no one would find me. They'd call tomorrow to say why I wasn't at work, and I'd get written up for a no show. And I wonder when someone would care enough to find me.
That Tetanus shot I think really almost fried my immunities, or the hospital waiting room was alive with deadly spores. Within days, I had a persistent cough, runny nose, aches and pains, and a headache that would smother Godzilla. This morning, I wasn't hungry anymore, and when I was out and about, even though it was a very hot 89 degrees of sunlight, I had the windows on my Herbie closed and the heater on, and yet the chills almost incapacitated me. I was lucky to get home when I did.
With the windows all closed I collapsed on the couch, and Indiana, my cat (like all cats, intuitive) layed on top of me to keep me warm. It it did no good. I passed out.
Woke up two hours later and I crawled upstairs, almost falling twice and hating myself for feeling so helpless. My eyes were watering so much, I had to feel for the thermometer...and I passed out for a brief second as I slid to the floor. I wiped my eyes enough to see with one, and my hands weren't cooperation to grab the glass tube, or even hold it up. But I saw it.
105.5 and rising. my head was burning up and i half fell downstairs trying to decide what to do. there is NO way I can drive to the hospital, and I can't even use my hands to find the phone anymore. fingers are clenched and don't work. I'm shivering to the point of cunvulsions. Usually, I could call Kim, but she's vacationing in France. Sorta kinda out of the question, huh? I start to go through my list of "friends" that my clouded mind can think of. If I go any higher, I'll pass out and I won't wake up. And worse yet, the cat will eventually be hungry. I started to cry, as I couldn't move and on the edge of reality.
I had a friend in Heather, and I thought, regardless of what she thinks of me, perhaps she'd put that aside and help me get to a hospital. But no. She didn't want to be my friend anymore because I "complicate things" and she has a life she needs to concentrate on. She doesn't like my intensity anymore, and jesus, this is intense right now. Fine. Even though I was hurt that I let down my shields for her, and she abandons that friendship (friendships ARE complications! Welcome ones. I wouldn't have it any other way), I respect that. Thinking of others again...
I think of Christina, as we were going go out for drinks that night (kinda out of the question now), but she's awaiting her boyfriend to call from jail in Wyoming. Caught with a bag of weed and has a 70 day sentence. She's not going to want to miss his phone call. Thinking of others...and I realize...no one can pause and think of me at this time. Their lives are full and I "complicate things". I try the thermometer again, and it's inching to 106. And there is no one, except a cat with no drivers license or the concept of using 911.
I start to pass out, as I can't hold on and my fingers and arms can't move, and drop the glass tube. I can't breathe right, and i can't see.
And... in my mind of shuttered emptiness, I... see an old friend: Kimberlina
let me tell you about Kimberlina. She is a Fearie Princess. That's probably the best way I can describe her. She and I used to get together over coffee and talk about all things metaphysical and her mind was so open and inviting, she had no end to her brilliance. A day with her was totally invigorating...and i haven't been abbe to talk to her since her birthday in January due to her heavy work schedule. If I was lucky, i might get a message monthly, and that was enough to rejuvenate all the things she believed in. I saw her with invisible fearie wings on her shoulders.
When she saw me for the first time, she said she could tell I was a "guardian healer". Her Unicorn. And i told her about my penchant for healing fast, even able to warm my hands in an instant. I held hers and she was surprised how quick she felt that. She said she saw a light in me as a healer, and I'm just learning to harness that. Yes, it's new age, but she believed and she made me as well.
And in my fevered exit, I saw a vision of her. And she said, "...Light from within.". Mind you, I never "learned" how to do this, but I saw my fearie guardian...and, I imagined my core glowing...
My warmth changed and it was beautiful. SHE was beautiful. I directed the "rays" to my hands, and they clenched, I centered my being and my eyes opened. I let the healing light hit my limbs and I could get up with great resistance. I pumped that back into my mind, and I could think again. I walked, walked, upstairs and tried the thermometer again...
105 and falling. 104. Right now it's 103.5 and i can think, and sit up, and type coherently, and talk. I'm not ready to drive yet, but I won't die. Not with my fearie princess looking over me.
Could it be it was a fevered dream? That I was just ready to brake the fevered veil? Possibly. But, today, I believe in faith.
I might call her and leave a message, and I bet she felt something too. She's like that. And she's wonderful.
That Tetanus shot I think really almost fried my immunities, or the hospital waiting room was alive with deadly spores. Within days, I had a persistent cough, runny nose, aches and pains, and a headache that would smother Godzilla. This morning, I wasn't hungry anymore, and when I was out and about, even though it was a very hot 89 degrees of sunlight, I had the windows on my Herbie closed and the heater on, and yet the chills almost incapacitated me. I was lucky to get home when I did.
With the windows all closed I collapsed on the couch, and Indiana, my cat (like all cats, intuitive) layed on top of me to keep me warm. It it did no good. I passed out.
Woke up two hours later and I crawled upstairs, almost falling twice and hating myself for feeling so helpless. My eyes were watering so much, I had to feel for the thermometer...and I passed out for a brief second as I slid to the floor. I wiped my eyes enough to see with one, and my hands weren't cooperation to grab the glass tube, or even hold it up. But I saw it.
105.5 and rising. my head was burning up and i half fell downstairs trying to decide what to do. there is NO way I can drive to the hospital, and I can't even use my hands to find the phone anymore. fingers are clenched and don't work. I'm shivering to the point of cunvulsions. Usually, I could call Kim, but she's vacationing in France. Sorta kinda out of the question, huh? I start to go through my list of "friends" that my clouded mind can think of. If I go any higher, I'll pass out and I won't wake up. And worse yet, the cat will eventually be hungry. I started to cry, as I couldn't move and on the edge of reality.
I had a friend in Heather, and I thought, regardless of what she thinks of me, perhaps she'd put that aside and help me get to a hospital. But no. She didn't want to be my friend anymore because I "complicate things" and she has a life she needs to concentrate on. She doesn't like my intensity anymore, and jesus, this is intense right now. Fine. Even though I was hurt that I let down my shields for her, and she abandons that friendship (friendships ARE complications! Welcome ones. I wouldn't have it any other way), I respect that. Thinking of others again...
I think of Christina, as we were going go out for drinks that night (kinda out of the question now), but she's awaiting her boyfriend to call from jail in Wyoming. Caught with a bag of weed and has a 70 day sentence. She's not going to want to miss his phone call. Thinking of others...and I realize...no one can pause and think of me at this time. Their lives are full and I "complicate things". I try the thermometer again, and it's inching to 106. And there is no one, except a cat with no drivers license or the concept of using 911.
I start to pass out, as I can't hold on and my fingers and arms can't move, and drop the glass tube. I can't breathe right, and i can't see.
And... in my mind of shuttered emptiness, I... see an old friend: Kimberlina
let me tell you about Kimberlina. She is a Fearie Princess. That's probably the best way I can describe her. She and I used to get together over coffee and talk about all things metaphysical and her mind was so open and inviting, she had no end to her brilliance. A day with her was totally invigorating...and i haven't been abbe to talk to her since her birthday in January due to her heavy work schedule. If I was lucky, i might get a message monthly, and that was enough to rejuvenate all the things she believed in. I saw her with invisible fearie wings on her shoulders.
When she saw me for the first time, she said she could tell I was a "guardian healer". Her Unicorn. And i told her about my penchant for healing fast, even able to warm my hands in an instant. I held hers and she was surprised how quick she felt that. She said she saw a light in me as a healer, and I'm just learning to harness that. Yes, it's new age, but she believed and she made me as well.
And in my fevered exit, I saw a vision of her. And she said, "...Light from within.". Mind you, I never "learned" how to do this, but I saw my fearie guardian...and, I imagined my core glowing...
My warmth changed and it was beautiful. SHE was beautiful. I directed the "rays" to my hands, and they clenched, I centered my being and my eyes opened. I let the healing light hit my limbs and I could get up with great resistance. I pumped that back into my mind, and I could think again. I walked, walked, upstairs and tried the thermometer again...
105 and falling. 104. Right now it's 103.5 and i can think, and sit up, and type coherently, and talk. I'm not ready to drive yet, but I won't die. Not with my fearie princess looking over me.
Could it be it was a fevered dream? That I was just ready to brake the fevered veil? Possibly. But, today, I believe in faith.
I might call her and leave a message, and I bet she felt something too. She's like that. And she's wonderful.
Tis But A Scratch...
King Arthur: "...Your arm's cut off!!"
Black Knight (spurting blood from his shoulder socket, sans arm): "...No it isn't...."
King Arthur: "Well, whats that over there?", pointing to the dismembered arm on the grass.
Black Knight, gazing at the arm, then back at the King, "Tis but a flesh wound...I've had worse..."
I've always said that as my Birthday approaches, I have...HAVE...to be very careful. Bad things happen. Sometimes very bad things. And now I have to add to keep sharp objects away from me.
Friday night, the 13th, I was watching the fair Christina slice and destroy old TaxCut boxes, after all, if you didn't send your taxes off, you're screwed now, I guess. We were talking, when she let out a yelp! She managed to cut her wrist, not a deep cut, but enough to draw blood. I asked her what happened, and it seems among all the right handed box knife blades, someone made a left handed one. One fast skip over a slick surface and she's injured as she drops the knife in a pile of two others. I take her to mend her wounds and she says she's fine. She's a trooper, and I love that strength about her. Now it takes a random series of events to make that happen once, but to have that happen twice in 5 minutes takes either the worst luck in the whole world, or supreme stupidity...
And here's where I come in.
I tell Christina (or Chrissy J, as we rapmasters call her...okay, just me...but I think it's cute), rest the hand and I'll finish up the last few boxes, and a grab a...knife. Yes, I was "lucky" enough to once again grab the same knife with Christina's blood slathered over it. Once quick cut and a skip, the screw holding the blade handle together moving loose and the blade exposed one inch. And the world stopped as I engage my brain to realize that the long blade, had bisected clear through my thumb. A pause that lasted a lifetime, as my eyes settled back into my sockets and I stared at the wound.
Then the red blood gushed forth like a Las Vegas fountain show. And when they say blood is warm? It's intensely hot and comforting in a strange way. Christina grabs my hand and leads me to the first aid kit, with my tell tale mark of pools of blood all over the place. I have her grab me a pressure gauze and the bleeding still doesn't stop, pooling into my other hand. I start to clean up the place like a pathetic shotgun victim with paper towels, when Christina tells me to go in the back and wash it out. I listen to her, because evidential, now, we're bonded by blood!
As I make my way to the back with a red, previously white rag, and the other hand cupping the filling pool from the slice...when Dean, our assistant manager and professional stress machine runs into me. He starts spouting off things he wants me to do tonight before he goes, no even seeing my hands are crimson. When he finally asks me If I want a lunch now, he notices the trail of plasma and his jaw hits the floor...
"I think, now, would be a good time, y'think." I say
As I try to use the huge first aid kit in the brake room, I realize that most injuries happen to the hands. Yet, EVERYTHING in a first aid kit required two hands, and some of those sealed packets are near tear proof. What the hell? I have to change the dressing four times before Dean asks me, if I think I can finish out the night. It's typical of me that I put others before myself. And an evening with a freaked out Dean is like a tazer to the tender lumps. I pretend the bleeding stopped and say he can go home. And a sigh of relief fills the store.
Christina is brilliant! She repacked and taped up my would so well, not one drop spilled out! I think she was a Madam Curie in another life. And I decided that I'd go to the hospital tomorrow. Too much has happened today.
At the urgent care, I have a nurse carefully try to cut loose the gauze and tape. Christina's such a professional, that the tape is incredibly hard to get some scissors under and cut away. Five minutes into the cutting, the nurses phone rings and she startles so much, the scissors go flying. Shit in a Tophat! All I need is a puncher too!
The doc comes in and separates the wound! Well, at least try...y'see, I have a knack of healing really really fast. In fact the blood trails at work coagulated within minutes. And my would was sealed...even for being a half in deep and scraped bone!
"It's healing really well," he says, "what we're gonna give you is a few tetanus shots and antibiotics. dirty blade, you know..."
The tetanus shots hurt WAY worse. Like someone slammed you on the upper arm with a sledge hammer. And I did a little research, because I immediately started to get my cough and runny nose again...it's because of what they gave me. It's making my immunity system run overtime and At the time, I didn't know it could get worse...
Should have known, though. My birthday isn't here yet. Plenty can happen...
Black Knight (spurting blood from his shoulder socket, sans arm): "...No it isn't...."
King Arthur: "Well, whats that over there?", pointing to the dismembered arm on the grass.
Black Knight, gazing at the arm, then back at the King, "Tis but a flesh wound...I've had worse..."
I've always said that as my Birthday approaches, I have...HAVE...to be very careful. Bad things happen. Sometimes very bad things. And now I have to add to keep sharp objects away from me.
Friday night, the 13th, I was watching the fair Christina slice and destroy old TaxCut boxes, after all, if you didn't send your taxes off, you're screwed now, I guess. We were talking, when she let out a yelp! She managed to cut her wrist, not a deep cut, but enough to draw blood. I asked her what happened, and it seems among all the right handed box knife blades, someone made a left handed one. One fast skip over a slick surface and she's injured as she drops the knife in a pile of two others. I take her to mend her wounds and she says she's fine. She's a trooper, and I love that strength about her. Now it takes a random series of events to make that happen once, but to have that happen twice in 5 minutes takes either the worst luck in the whole world, or supreme stupidity...
And here's where I come in.
I tell Christina (or Chrissy J, as we rapmasters call her...okay, just me...but I think it's cute), rest the hand and I'll finish up the last few boxes, and a grab a...knife. Yes, I was "lucky" enough to once again grab the same knife with Christina's blood slathered over it. Once quick cut and a skip, the screw holding the blade handle together moving loose and the blade exposed one inch. And the world stopped as I engage my brain to realize that the long blade, had bisected clear through my thumb. A pause that lasted a lifetime, as my eyes settled back into my sockets and I stared at the wound.
Then the red blood gushed forth like a Las Vegas fountain show. And when they say blood is warm? It's intensely hot and comforting in a strange way. Christina grabs my hand and leads me to the first aid kit, with my tell tale mark of pools of blood all over the place. I have her grab me a pressure gauze and the bleeding still doesn't stop, pooling into my other hand. I start to clean up the place like a pathetic shotgun victim with paper towels, when Christina tells me to go in the back and wash it out. I listen to her, because evidential, now, we're bonded by blood!
As I make my way to the back with a red, previously white rag, and the other hand cupping the filling pool from the slice...when Dean, our assistant manager and professional stress machine runs into me. He starts spouting off things he wants me to do tonight before he goes, no even seeing my hands are crimson. When he finally asks me If I want a lunch now, he notices the trail of plasma and his jaw hits the floor...
"I think, now, would be a good time, y'think." I say
As I try to use the huge first aid kit in the brake room, I realize that most injuries happen to the hands. Yet, EVERYTHING in a first aid kit required two hands, and some of those sealed packets are near tear proof. What the hell? I have to change the dressing four times before Dean asks me, if I think I can finish out the night. It's typical of me that I put others before myself. And an evening with a freaked out Dean is like a tazer to the tender lumps. I pretend the bleeding stopped and say he can go home. And a sigh of relief fills the store.
Christina is brilliant! She repacked and taped up my would so well, not one drop spilled out! I think she was a Madam Curie in another life. And I decided that I'd go to the hospital tomorrow. Too much has happened today.
At the urgent care, I have a nurse carefully try to cut loose the gauze and tape. Christina's such a professional, that the tape is incredibly hard to get some scissors under and cut away. Five minutes into the cutting, the nurses phone rings and she startles so much, the scissors go flying. Shit in a Tophat! All I need is a puncher too!
The doc comes in and separates the wound! Well, at least try...y'see, I have a knack of healing really really fast. In fact the blood trails at work coagulated within minutes. And my would was sealed...even for being a half in deep and scraped bone!
"It's healing really well," he says, "what we're gonna give you is a few tetanus shots and antibiotics. dirty blade, you know..."
The tetanus shots hurt WAY worse. Like someone slammed you on the upper arm with a sledge hammer. And I did a little research, because I immediately started to get my cough and runny nose again...it's because of what they gave me. It's making my immunity system run overtime and At the time, I didn't know it could get worse...
Should have known, though. My birthday isn't here yet. Plenty can happen...
Thursday, May 10, 2007
The Start of Curmudgeony
If I ever...ever...get the bright idea to see a summer movie midnight on opening day for the exclusive sneak peak, please please please, refer me to this blog, or take a wooden fence post with a masonry block nailed on it across my head.
Oh, by the way, I saw Spider-man 3. But everyone and their pimp has already talked about that.
I arrive at the theater about 9pm for the 12:01 showtime. I'm thinking that this is a small theater and there shouldn't be a line. What I wasn't thinking of was that sometimes, teenagers will use any excuse to be out amongst themselves to act like asses. And I should have known this too! I did go to school. I have seen the Greek play on display of the guys trying to act cool to impress the chicks. I have seen the cruel temptresses of teen girls trying to look "hot" and be the center of attention by demanding it. it has NEVER changed...
So I see in line a bunch of guys sitting on a sofa. Yep, sofa. Now, guys only do this in the wild. You rarely see teens all crowded on a tiny sofa unless it's to say "look how cool we are that we brought a sofa to sit on in a line! Aren't we funny?". You don't see a bunch of dudes all crammed on one couch otherwise...too "gay". Y'see, if they're at home watching a game on TV with no one to impress, all too soon, they'll become aware that their thighs are touching, that fingertips brush ever so tenderly across the hair on your buddies arm as you reach for some chips, and you never noticed that Dave had such an angelic face...
That should be enough to make everyone expand their personal space and spread out across the carpet.
I also see in line guys with really bad Spider-man masks. Once again to impress the ladies on how cool and funny they must be. I can tell you from experience, a Spider-man mask is hard to breathe through, hot as hell, and near impossible to see out of. No, I don't parade about the house in one, I'm talking about Halloweens when you got that lil' box costume from the market with the satiny jumpsuit and rubberband half mask. But, THESE people were tolerable, demanding you pay attention to them as you pass by...
Behind me was a few girls and their boyfriends. But, i got the message that although the guys thought they were on a date with them, the girls seemed to only consider they guys as "the dudes that are paying for the movie and my food". Why did these people annoy me the most? They talked....loud. Nothing wrong with talking loud, but when you do it so you hope the whole line will overhear your wit, shatters your skull with the cackle of a adolescent girl laughs, and screams . It wasn't only that they talked loud, it was what the subjects they talked about...
"Sharrie!!!!! Gimmie my fries!!! Gimmie!!! Don't be a bitch!!!! (laughs}"
"No don't!!!! DON'T!!! (teeheehee) I'm gonna kick your ass!!! Giv-it-back!!! NooOOOooo (teeheehee)"
"I'm HUNGRY!!! Go get some food, Eddie!!! You know what I Like!!! NO!! I don't want that!!! Shuddap!!! People here are stupid!!!! (a maniacal laugh that chills the soul)"
While this was happening, I was formulating a plan to use my keys to jam under my eyes and scrape my frontal lobe for a quick lobotomy. I could feel my brain cells dying with every word uttered behind me. I was becoming dumber just being around them.
Then I got my birthday wish! I was hit on the back of the head with a Frisbee! How did they ever know! Not only did I get that once, I got it thrice! It was those kids behind me again.
"Angie!!! Why did you duck the Frisbee?!?! (laugh) You retard!!!! (laughs)"
At that point, I turned into a curmudgeon. I turned to Angie and her friends, "Angie...if you're going to duck a Frisbee being thrown at you each time, at least give me warning , 'kay?"
They line started moving finally at 10pm. Couches were shoved back onto a truck that pulled up, masks were taken off, and the trash receptacle outside was buried in fast food containers, wrappers, and pizza boxes. Getting into the auditorium, i was hoping for my last birthday wish: Not to be seated next to the people behind me. As I sat down, in a theater full of people text messaging small novels, and taking cell phone pics, I thought I was home free, as the seats next to me were empty.
Then those same girls came up and straddled the seats next to me to talk to some other guy friends seated behind me! They said they're making the rounds to say hello to everyone (i,e, a cry for attention they weren't getting from their "dates"), and they decided to hang here and talk (yell) to these dudes, cuz theys be cool. At that point I realize that I was in hell.
"Angie!!!!!! Lets take these seats!!! No ones here and we can talk to these guys though the movie!!!!!" My mind actually splint into to and I could feel a coma coming on.
"What about our seats back there with Eric?!!!! Our stuff is there!!!!"
"Aghhh!!! They can watch our stuff, and we'll move back and forth to visit!!!"
Time for drastic action on my part. I see two guys with popcorn and drinks stopped at the theaters entrance scanning for seats. I immediately stand up and scream, "AH!!! There you guys are!!! I was thinking you'd never make it!!! I saved your seats right here!!!" The girls look to each other, the two latecomers look to each other with confusion, then shrug and decide to take my offer! I am elated as they move to the chairs and the girls vacate them.
Then one of the latecommers says, "Hey, lets get those seats up there at the back...", and they continue up the stairs.
NOOOOOOO!!! SONAVABITCH!!! I then realized I yelled those things outloud, but I didn't care as the girls took back up the straddling of chairs, and occasionally moving back and forth between rows.
I counted five butts (three female), two men's junk, three girlie parts, one elbow, and a cell phone, smacking the back of my head during this whole time, in addition to the three Frisbees, and I wished for the sweet release of death, as the two girls chatted on with the guys and with their cells, and I had a hour to wait for the movie still.
Then someone tapped me on my shoulder: A couple in their twenties. "Are those seats taken?"
I think a tear formed as I said "Bless you..."
Oh, by the way, I saw Spider-man 3. But everyone and their pimp has already talked about that.
I arrive at the theater about 9pm for the 12:01 showtime. I'm thinking that this is a small theater and there shouldn't be a line. What I wasn't thinking of was that sometimes, teenagers will use any excuse to be out amongst themselves to act like asses. And I should have known this too! I did go to school. I have seen the Greek play on display of the guys trying to act cool to impress the chicks. I have seen the cruel temptresses of teen girls trying to look "hot" and be the center of attention by demanding it. it has NEVER changed...
So I see in line a bunch of guys sitting on a sofa. Yep, sofa. Now, guys only do this in the wild. You rarely see teens all crowded on a tiny sofa unless it's to say "look how cool we are that we brought a sofa to sit on in a line! Aren't we funny?". You don't see a bunch of dudes all crammed on one couch otherwise...too "gay". Y'see, if they're at home watching a game on TV with no one to impress, all too soon, they'll become aware that their thighs are touching, that fingertips brush ever so tenderly across the hair on your buddies arm as you reach for some chips, and you never noticed that Dave had such an angelic face...
That should be enough to make everyone expand their personal space and spread out across the carpet.
I also see in line guys with really bad Spider-man masks. Once again to impress the ladies on how cool and funny they must be. I can tell you from experience, a Spider-man mask is hard to breathe through, hot as hell, and near impossible to see out of. No, I don't parade about the house in one, I'm talking about Halloweens when you got that lil' box costume from the market with the satiny jumpsuit and rubberband half mask. But, THESE people were tolerable, demanding you pay attention to them as you pass by...
Behind me was a few girls and their boyfriends. But, i got the message that although the guys thought they were on a date with them, the girls seemed to only consider they guys as "the dudes that are paying for the movie and my food". Why did these people annoy me the most? They talked....loud. Nothing wrong with talking loud, but when you do it so you hope the whole line will overhear your wit, shatters your skull with the cackle of a adolescent girl laughs, and screams . It wasn't only that they talked loud, it was what the subjects they talked about...
"Sharrie!!!!! Gimmie my fries!!! Gimmie!!! Don't be a bitch!!!! (laughs}"
"No don't!!!! DON'T!!! (teeheehee) I'm gonna kick your ass!!! Giv-it-back!!! NooOOOooo (teeheehee)"
"I'm HUNGRY!!! Go get some food, Eddie!!! You know what I Like!!! NO!! I don't want that!!! Shuddap!!! People here are stupid!!!! (a maniacal laugh that chills the soul)"
While this was happening, I was formulating a plan to use my keys to jam under my eyes and scrape my frontal lobe for a quick lobotomy. I could feel my brain cells dying with every word uttered behind me. I was becoming dumber just being around them.
Then I got my birthday wish! I was hit on the back of the head with a Frisbee! How did they ever know! Not only did I get that once, I got it thrice! It was those kids behind me again.
"Angie!!! Why did you duck the Frisbee?!?! (laugh) You retard!!!! (laughs)"
At that point, I turned into a curmudgeon. I turned to Angie and her friends, "Angie...if you're going to duck a Frisbee being thrown at you each time, at least give me warning , 'kay?"
They line started moving finally at 10pm. Couches were shoved back onto a truck that pulled up, masks were taken off, and the trash receptacle outside was buried in fast food containers, wrappers, and pizza boxes. Getting into the auditorium, i was hoping for my last birthday wish: Not to be seated next to the people behind me. As I sat down, in a theater full of people text messaging small novels, and taking cell phone pics, I thought I was home free, as the seats next to me were empty.
Then those same girls came up and straddled the seats next to me to talk to some other guy friends seated behind me! They said they're making the rounds to say hello to everyone (i,e, a cry for attention they weren't getting from their "dates"), and they decided to hang here and talk (yell) to these dudes, cuz theys be cool. At that point I realize that I was in hell.
"Angie!!!!!! Lets take these seats!!! No ones here and we can talk to these guys though the movie!!!!!" My mind actually splint into to and I could feel a coma coming on.
"What about our seats back there with Eric?!!!! Our stuff is there!!!!"
"Aghhh!!! They can watch our stuff, and we'll move back and forth to visit!!!"
Time for drastic action on my part. I see two guys with popcorn and drinks stopped at the theaters entrance scanning for seats. I immediately stand up and scream, "AH!!! There you guys are!!! I was thinking you'd never make it!!! I saved your seats right here!!!" The girls look to each other, the two latecomers look to each other with confusion, then shrug and decide to take my offer! I am elated as they move to the chairs and the girls vacate them.
Then one of the latecommers says, "Hey, lets get those seats up there at the back...", and they continue up the stairs.
NOOOOOOO!!! SONAVABITCH!!! I then realized I yelled those things outloud, but I didn't care as the girls took back up the straddling of chairs, and occasionally moving back and forth between rows.
I counted five butts (three female), two men's junk, three girlie parts, one elbow, and a cell phone, smacking the back of my head during this whole time, in addition to the three Frisbees, and I wished for the sweet release of death, as the two girls chatted on with the guys and with their cells, and I had a hour to wait for the movie still.
Then someone tapped me on my shoulder: A couple in their twenties. "Are those seats taken?"
I think a tear formed as I said "Bless you..."
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