Once upon a time, I called Beardy up to go see a movie. We're both pretty solitary guys and we enjoy eachother's company since most people can't stand to go to the movies with us given our excessive ranting that almost always follows. So, anyway, I meet up with Beardy and we go find our seats. When we get inside, we discover that aside from one other bearded guy alone, we are the only other audience members.
"Maybe we should bring him into our fold," I thought, but this was quickly dispelled when I realized I wanted a drink. And some popcorn. Not an expense I usually make, and one that I, honestly, felt kind of gluttonous and wasteful allowing.
So I make my way out to the concession, no fear of losing my seat in the desolately empty theater, and place my order. As my order is being filled, behind me walks up a typical sort of young arrogant suburban guy and his (apparent, given their physical intertwining) girlfriend. The cashier tells me the price for my guilty treats, somethingi n the neighborhood of $10 or $11 for the meager popcorn and bucket of soda.
"Isn't that just f-in' ridiculous?" chimes in the fella behind me. "$11 for some popcorn and a drink, sheesh." Apparently this guy was friendly, or maybe just brazenly outspoken. As stated, I already felt foolish for the purchase, so I impulsively spat out a defense for myself:
"Yeah, well, y'know, my girlfriend was all like, insistent, and really wanted something to drink and snack on, so... what are you gonna do, y'know?" I said, giving him a guy-to-guy sympathy shrug and head tilt. He rolled his eyes in agreement and nudged his head at the female encased in his left arm. She looked kind of uncomfortable and smiled a little. "See ya," I quickly threw in as I made a hasty escape.
Back inside the theater I rejoined Beardy, sitting to his left, the two of us perfectly centered in the row of seats at the medium elevation of the theater, perfectly poised for a nice, solitary (save for the other bearded fellow) viewing of our chosen film. And in walks Mr. Talkative and his girlfriend...
I still take great delight in imagining what indignant monologues Mr. Talkative's girlfriend must have endured the rest of the night about his thoughts on Beardy and I's romantic shamelessness (this was, of course, in Indiana, not one of the most progressive states in the union.)
"Maybe we should bring him into our fold," I thought, but this was quickly dispelled when I realized I wanted a drink. And some popcorn. Not an expense I usually make, and one that I, honestly, felt kind of gluttonous and wasteful allowing.
So I make my way out to the concession, no fear of losing my seat in the desolately empty theater, and place my order. As my order is being filled, behind me walks up a typical sort of young arrogant suburban guy and his (apparent, given their physical intertwining) girlfriend. The cashier tells me the price for my guilty treats, somethingi n the neighborhood of $10 or $11 for the meager popcorn and bucket of soda.
"Isn't that just f-in' ridiculous?" chimes in the fella behind me. "$11 for some popcorn and a drink, sheesh." Apparently this guy was friendly, or maybe just brazenly outspoken. As stated, I already felt foolish for the purchase, so I impulsively spat out a defense for myself:
"Yeah, well, y'know, my girlfriend was all like, insistent, and really wanted something to drink and snack on, so... what are you gonna do, y'know?" I said, giving him a guy-to-guy sympathy shrug and head tilt. He rolled his eyes in agreement and nudged his head at the female encased in his left arm. She looked kind of uncomfortable and smiled a little. "See ya," I quickly threw in as I made a hasty escape.
Back inside the theater I rejoined Beardy, sitting to his left, the two of us perfectly centered in the row of seats at the medium elevation of the theater, perfectly poised for a nice, solitary (save for the other bearded fellow) viewing of our chosen film. And in walks Mr. Talkative and his girlfriend...
I still take great delight in imagining what indignant monologues Mr. Talkative's girlfriend must have endured the rest of the night about his thoughts on Beardy and I's romantic shamelessness (this was, of course, in Indiana, not one of the most progressive states in the union.)
nena:
