Howdy all. Hope everyone’s been having a good year so far. Today’s newsletter brings you part one of an ongoing series I’ve been wanting to do that details the insane and questionable things I’ve witnessed people do at the movies. After one of these experiences, a friend of mine told me they would never go to a movie with me again—and I don’t blame them. I am somehow a magnet for these experiences after all. From Penis Nachos to old people divulging their sexual habits, I think I’ve almost seen it all. Without further delay, enjoy part one of my Awful Movie Theater Experiences.
Excuse Me, But You’re In My Goddamn Seat
Ever since dragging my wife to see Jordan Peele’s sensational movie, Nope, I could not stop thinking about the Oppenheimer trailer that was screened during the previews. This was new ground for one of my favorite directors, Christopher Nolan, and word on the street was that he had somehow recreated an atom bomb explosion by using practical effects. There was no way I would miss out on seeing this the way it was meant to be seen--in 70mm film on the big screen.
The night before my showing, our AC went out in the middle of a hot Texas summer--and it was the hottest week yet. My son didn’t sleep well due to being hot, so naturally my wife and I barely got two hours of sleep.
The AC got fixed that morning, but it took all day to cool our apartment back down. To add to this misery, we were packing up and getting ready to move. The low that day was around 95, with the highs getting close to 110 (add about 5 degrees for that good ole Texas humidity). All of this is to say that even with the cold air blowing, packing was an absolute chore and drained all of us. By the time I was headed out to see the movie--I was delirious. A cool theater and three hour movie was exactly what my aching body needed.
When I arrived at the theater, I quickly got my ticket scanned and automatically tuned out the attendant, because I knew where I was going, I knew this place like the back of my hand. I sped walked to the IMAX theater, pulled the heavy wooden doors open, and entered. As I walked up the hallway to the theater itself, I immediately noticed Matt Damon on screen, and I knew this wasn’t a trailer for another movie featuring Mr. Damon. His 1940s clothes gave it away. My heart began to race.
Shit, how did I get my times wrong?? I can’t believe I’m late to the movie. This isn’t like me. Dammit!
I frantically started up the stairs—two at a time— towards my seat. When I got halfway up, I began my approach to my seat in the middle of the super-sized IMAX row. It was now or never, and I was desperate to sit down and get the most out of whatever remained.
Predictably, I proceeded to trip over everyones legs (including my own).
“Shit, sorry. Ouch. Sorry. Fuck. Goddammit--sorry.”
At one point, I almost tripped over somebody’s bag and nearly went rolling down the entire theater. That would have been almost as embarrassing as the loud apology I gave to the owner of the bag, a small blonde woman, who was looking up at me with a little fear in their eyes as I shouted, “I’M SO SO SORRY. SO SORRY.”
At this point, any rational person would have just turned around and checked their ticket again. But not me. I was here to see Oppenheimer dammit!
After kicking a few more people, their loved ones, and their belongings (when did the walkspace get so small?) I arrived at my seat. But of course some guy had made themselves all comfortable in it. Great. Now I was going to have to kick this asshole out of my seat. The nerve of some people!
I am not a small person. I’m 6’4” and 230 lbs on a good day. I don’t blend into a crowd and especially not in a movie theater where the movie is rolling. The man, understandably so, looks absolutely terrified as I loudly begin to tell him that he’s in my seat. I’m pretty sure he was about to piss himself. As I confront him, he nervously looks around, and throws his hands up in the air. I rolled my eyes and showed him my ticket which clearly shows that the man is in my seat. How hard could this be?? He of course is bewildered and looks at his significant other with his mouth just hanging open. Not being able to withstand the stupidity any more, I take it a step further and shine a light on the seat just to verify that I’m right when I suddenly remember something the attendant told me earlier:
“The theater will be down the hall and to your left! Enjoy the show!”
Oh. Oh fuck. oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck! I was in the wrong theater! I’m the idiot! I’m the imbecile!
Oh my god, when did I get so tall? When did I get so large? I should eat more salads. I should do anything but be standing right here. I wanted to shrink down and just hide away in a crevice of that IMAX theater for the rest of my life.
I dashed down the rest of the row (when did it get so easy to move down this row?) and leapt into my theater on the other side of the hall, with more than enough time to spare. Anxious and stressed, I downed an entire share-sized bag of Peanut M&M’s while texting anyone and everyone I could think of—anything to distract myself from the most embarrassing moment of my life (yet).
I couldn’t believe I had just been on the opposite end of an aggressively awful movie theater experience. I felt so bad for ruining someone else’s movie, and the embarrassment was only building as I ruminated on the brief exchanges I had in the IMAX theater over and over and over. Fortunately, the trailers started rolling and then the theater went completely dark as the film projector warmed up. Oppenheimer started, and nothing else mattered for the next three hours.