Thursday, February 25, 2010

Dollar Theatre Crowd

I would not have gone anywhere or done anything last night if I had not been invited to tag along on a little outing with a few friends. To be honest, I was completely content with sitting on my butt, working on the homework that remained, and doing nothing the rest of the night. "So, what's your answer? Are you coming with us, tonight?" Elizabeth asked. I could not say "no" to a friend who had bothered to invite me. I overlooked the fact that I was sitting in between the two roommates as they discussed their plans, thus the invitation could have merely been one of pity. Instead, I made a point to enjoy my time there. They are my friends, after all.

The dollar theatre--what a glamorous night out on the town. Of course, I should not complain. I am the last person willing to hand over my life savings just for a newly released film and undercooked popcorn. Unless, of course, the film is Tim Burton's "Alice in Wonderland." His films deserve only the best, and by the best, I mean, I would be willing to amputate a leg and trade a kidney or two for the best seats in that house. However, this movie was not anything resembling a Tim Burton film. No, my friends decided the best choice would be "Leap Year." While I like Amy Adams' performances, and can typically handle the predictable, romantic comedy, I would not have, willingly, decided on "Leap Year" as my first choice.

Plans had changed along the way, unexpectedly, and I received a text-message from Elizabeth stating her roommates had decided not to attend the outing due to their own personal reasons. "Are you still game?" she asked. I have spent enough time with Elizabeth to know when she was eager [desperate] for a "yes." I told her I was still interested. After all, I had it already in my mind that I would be attending a late movie, and Elizabeth knows how to make things entertaining.

During the drive, I was picturing the rundown look to the building one can expect. Dollar theatres have a strange smell and strange collection of people who frequent the parking lots. This was far from the first time I had been to a dollar theatre, so I am not necessarily excluding myself from the aforementioned peoples, but I am sure those who have ventured to these cheap establishments, on at least one occasion, can vouch for the caustic nature of their biggest customers. I winced in the passenger seat as I thought about my last visit when a large family of five preschoolers stormed the theatre room and could not sit in one seat throughout the entire movie, shifting rows and knocking into people in the process.

We pulled into the closest parking spot. I sighed in relief. Being that it was a "school night" and it was somewhat late, hardly anyone had bothered to make the trip to the theatre. Though it is a college town, so those who did not go see a movie were probably getting high before their test the next morning or at one of those God-awful themed club nights like "Tasty Tuesdays."

The overall appearance of the theatre was not as hideous as the ones at home are. It is one thing I can say about this town: it may not be the home I have currently sitting on a pedestal, but it has a decent dollar theatre. I still refused to eat from the concession, regardless of how clean, though. Like the typical college student she is, Elizabeth paid for her ticket with nothing but coins--nickels, dimes and quarters. I could not stop laughing. "Shut up. I'm in college. I have no money." It was not a great argument, no matter if it had succeeded in stifling my pleasure, which it had not. It is a known fact, despite her sighs of being unemployed and money-less, she is not trying too hard to fix her current financial situation. Not that I am either, but that does not matter--she said it, not me.

The rooms were small, but the seats were comfortable. The room playing "Leap Year," however, had a few teenagers who looked at me and Elizabeth and chuckled. When I sneered back one of the girls turned to her boyfriend and said, "Look at that. The Irish comes to a movie about Ireland." A look of disappointment struck my face. It is bad enough I have the stereotypical hotheadedness, I do not need an immature, high school student making crude remarks as if I am here simply for their amusement. I graduated high school so I could escape the insensibility. I did my best to not acknowledge the comment and found a seat. As far as I know, they did not say anything else the rest of the night, and Elizabeth was completely unaware anything had happened--just as we both would prefer it.

When someone directs a stereotypical remark about redheads towards me, something about the comment will leave me on edge. I have to fight the feeling of my hands clenching and breathe. Sure, I can take a joke. However, rarely do I hear it in joking. I cannot help my hair color, nor do I care to burn my follicles and scalp to change the color with which I was born. The "brunette" clearly does not share this same idea. I would love to know what she thought she was hiding under her dye-job before the sun graciously turned it purple for my own sick amusement later. At least I am not full-blooded. In which case, if I ever saw the little, snide girl again, I would probably embrace the opportunity to fully offend by drowning myself in the smells of liquor and shouting loudly in her face with a crude accent--I never could master impersonations.

When the movie was over, the group quickly exited the building. Still wide awake and happy the movie was not a dud, Elizabeth and I quickly drove over to Waffle House and ate our weight in waffles and eggs. It may have not been the best idea I have ever had, but I have never been one to count calories--I did fail math, after all, so any chance I can avoid counting anything, I take it. But I would be willing to do it again--the theatre and the eggs.


  1. Nice wrap. Follow with a little review of the movie? Or more on what you like in movies generally? Your review instincts seem pretty good in past posts. PS I've been reading mr. london because of you & he's pretty funny. --"the anonymous"

  2. Yeah, Mr. London Street is great. I plan on writing a review later. But probably not for another couple of days, really...
    I'm glad you've enjoyed my past reviews.


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