We May Be A Little Claustrophobic

Earlier this week, ThatManILove and I had a movie date.  We split salad and lasagna at at Pizzeria Venti, then headed to the movies.

We went to see "Date Night", the comedy with Steve Carell and Tina Fey.  The movie had probably been at our theatre 2 days, so we knew that most likely, the theatre would be crowded.

We were the first couple in the theatre, so for once, we sat in the middle of the second row from the top.  (We’re usually side seat aficionados.)  Our theatres are of decent size, for a mid-size Texas town, so there are plenty of seats.

We were early, and I was talking long distance to an old friend from North Carolina, and having a good time. ThatManILove was playing poker on his crackberry.  In about five minutes, a couple came and sat down on our row, about three seats down from me on my right.  And five minutes later, another couple came and sat the exact same distance from ThatManILove, on his left.

ThatManILove starts muttering.

Then, six people, who obviously go to the movies together all the time (I’ve seen them) came and sat...directly in front of us.

I’m still on the phone with my friend, and whispering the play by play to her.  She’s laughing hysterically, and I’m trying not to do the same.  ThatManILove is starting to steam.

People.  The entire theatre was empty.  No one was on the side seats, no one was seated in the lower section.  

The “Dancing Boxes” (what I call the previews) start, and I get off the phone.  But not before 4 people come and sit directly behind us.  I kid you not.

ThatManILove was grumbling.  I turned to him and asked him, “Did you order those special attractant pheremones from one of those funky 1-800 numbers or something?  Because these people are sticking to you like glue, baby.  Glue!”

So...to recap, we were instantly surrounded by 2+2+6+4 people.  The theatre didn’t fill up.  So, Including ThatManILove and myself, there were now 16 people in the theatre.  All smacking on their popcorn, kicking our seats, and talking amongst themselves.  Surrounding us.  In a theatre that probably seats at least 200 people.

And we were dead smack in the center of the top section of 12 seat rows, totally and irrevocably surrounded.  You just can’t get much closer than that.

I think we’ll repair to the side seats next time.

The Down Side of Going To The Movies With Janie

Today found me at our local theatre,  enjoying the movie “Up in the Air” with ThatManILove. Fun stuff, that!

Until....the urge came upon me.  Yes, that urge.  I had imbibed too much of my 1 liter Dasani water and had to crawl across my husband’s legs to make it to the ladies’ room.  We’re in Theatre 14, which means I have access to the least utilized bathroom - yeehaahhh!

I go in.  The bathroom, overall, seems clean enough.  Onwards, I trudge, past stall 1, to stall 2.  (Wonder how many people do that?  I should probably go in stall 1, if it’s clean.)  I open the door, ready the place (which means I killed three trees lining the toilet seat with toilet paper, not that I even sit down on it) and do my business. I slide the latch with my elbow, and open the door with my foot.

All while counting.  Don’t ask me where that came from, I’m just trying to get out of there asap.  

I’m so ready to get out of there, I get to the main door and reach for the handle when I realize I’ve been so concentrating on getting out of there,  I’ve not yet washed my hands.  I turn, and run back to the sink, where for once in my life there is hot water and soap.  HALLELUJAH!  Can you sing Happy Birthday and still count?  I did it!  Wonder if I'm a little OCD??

I wash my hands, and turn to the air dryers, still counting. What is that freaking counting about? I turn on the air dryer with my elbow, and start drying my hands.

And then, I remember someone saying how more germs go through those air dryers than any other appliance. 

I start praying over the air dryers like I pray over my food...”Lord, please dry my hands to the nourishment of my body, and kill all those germs.”  Crap.  What number was I on?  Dang it!

Finally, my hands are dry enough to get out of that germ-ridden place there.  I pull my hand into my hoodie sleeve, and open the bathroom door.  Inside, I'm exulting - I feel like I’m a prisoner, been set free.

Lord help me.  Now where's that anti-bacterial lotion?