Movie Theaters


Remember back in the day when you went to the movies and you prayed that nobody tall sat down in front of you because you knew that you wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of seeing anything? It was always some f-ing cowboy with a ten-gallon hat or some lady with a feathered monstrosity trying to climb off of her head and attack me. There could be nobody sitting down in the five rows in front of you, but these sideshow freaks would always decide the best spot was right in front of you. I was once the only person in the theater, seeing the first Lord of the Rings, so I sat dead center. Just as the movie began, some family, looking like the Children of the Corn rejects, pulled up and parked it in the five seats in front of me. I moved. As I walked to a new seat, I could hear one of them saying, “Wonder what that guy’s problem is?” Things have improved since then with the advent of stadium seating, but people still seem to flock to the area where the first person is sitting. “That guy must have the sweet spot bro.” Or, invariably, if they don’t sit right in front of you then it’s right behind. And of course one of the neanderthals will likely bump the back of your seat with their oversized club foot at least twenty times (usually just as you’ve gotten absorbed in the story and have forgotten about the last bump and grind session). Of course I’ll still take either group compared to the fucking weirdo that sits right down next to you when there are about a hundred other possible seats. This guy is on the border of getting socked in the face.


Surround sound might occasionally blow out your eardrums, but it sure beats the hell out of listening to Jim-Bob and Shereen’s (names made up) conversation about “how getting a colonoscopy really isn’t that bad…you just run this tube up…kind of messy…” (real conversation). I’ll take my ears ringing for a while thank you. People that are constantly talking at the movies need to be shot in the face. Usually I’ll do the “shoosh” thing and it will work. Or, I’ll move to another seat. But sometimes it is just so satisfying to stand up, turn around, and scream, “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” to the ass clown telling his moron buddy how he banged Sheila in accounting. I’ve only done this once, but the results were phenomenal. They not only shut up but moved away as well. Am I alone on this one, or should people wait to rent it if they want to have a running dialogue throughout the film?

Bad Seats and Sticky Floors

Cushy seats with padded armrests are starting to replace those old beat-to-hell vinyl things with duct tape holding down the spring that inevitably found a secret route right into your ass, but there are still plenty of theatres sporting the old hardware. Then there are the ones that tilt forward because they are broken, making you slouch forward. And if you are junior high age or younger this will make you shorter than your date and screw up your bad ass yawn and stretch technique. As if the seating wasn’t horrifying enough, the same theatre with the bad seats most likely has a sticky floor. This is mildly gross in a regular movie but horrifying at anything rated NC-17 or above.


A long time ago in a galaxy far far away (yeah Star Wars affected me as a child) you didn’t have to sell a kidney to go to the movies. A while back I went to Universal City in Hollywood to see Book of Eli.  $12 parking + $12 ticket + $12 popcorn and soda = $36 to see this flick. Ouch. Of course, it’s not always that bad. It just depends on the location and the time of day, but damn. If you’re a regular working stiff and you want to take a date to a movie, you shouldn’t have to get a loan from the bank to do so. They get you on those sodas too. You don’t start off wanting a 70 ounce Coke, but when you notice that it’s only $6 compared to the 20 ounce for $5 you get the big son-of-a-bitch. Half way through the movie you’re doing the pee dance praying you can make it another 30 minutes or so. The seal will break just as the movie is popping off, and you will have to run to the bathroom. Once there, they’ve gone green and there are no paper towels; you have to use the air dryer (which blows) or wipe on your pants. It could be worse you could have had some golem sitting four rows back pelting you with popcorn.

Children and Cell Phones

Children should not be allowed into grown-up movies if they meet any of the following criteria: are children, are children, or are children. Other than that, no problem. And p.s., who the F brings 3 or 4-year-olds to see District 9? Really? I didn’t just pay $36 to hear a baby crying for two hours. However the baby could come in handy as something to throw at the dickhead that lets their cell phone keep ringing, or worse, answers the damn thing.


After seeing The Invention of Lying I felt like getting some kind of shot and a hot shower. Thank god for the invention of the Bloody Mary. I had some jerk sitting behind me the entire time coughing up a lung. I suspect he had acute emphybronchialdeath-itis. If he made it a couple more days I’d be surprised. I couldn’t move either because the theater was packed (mostly with old people; damn matinees). Hard to believe for a stinker like that. And, unbelievably, the same freak show was at the next movie I went to a week later. Yuck.

Mr. Poops

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~ by zoopandpoop on February 5, 2010.

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