Posted By Casey on February 22, 2010
Yeah, you read that right, and boy do you have to hear THIS story.
I went to the theater with Kev on Saturday and we sat down in the back row, like we do, because nobody can kick the back of your seat if it’s the WALL and the troublemakers with small children tend not to want to hike that high. What can I say, we go to a lot of movies that can reasonably be expected to have a high child-to-adult ratio in attendance. We’ve learned.
An older woman and two tweenage girls make the trek up and sit a seat away from us. The film begins. All is going well until about ten minutes in, the woman opens a book and takes out a booklight.
I know I should say something right then, but I don’t; I think perhaps she is checking a schedule or something. No, she is READING. I’m rather enjoying the movie so I hiss (loudly enough for her to hear) “Let’s just move” and we do.
Unfortunately the view from eight seats away isn’t any better, since the damn booklight is shining right in my eyes. I hold my hand up to block it (and might I add, sustain an extremely rude gesture, because I’m passive-aggressive like that and it totally makes me feel better) for the ENTIRE HALF HOUR that the ratbag reads her stupid book. Eventually she shuts it off. My triumph is complete, or so I think…
Until the movie reaches a slow moment! Then, on comes the light AGAIN!
I want to get up and give the old bag an ultimatum. “You have three options…you may give me the booklight, you may leave your children and go to the lobby to read, or you may promptly receive a booklight enema free of charge.” About the time I’m about to get up and deliver this, Kev (who can still see the light, I guess, since my hand is only blocking it for ME) finally leans over and yells at her to turn it off.
The woman has the gall to look SURPRISED AND OFFENDED. She shuts it off, and it doesn’t come back on, but I can’t imagine what reasoning led her to believe that turning on what essentially amounts to a flashlight during a movie and leaving it on counts as polite behavior ANYWHERE. I thought cellphone-talkers were bad.
Later on Kev realized what he SHOULD have done the first time the light came on, before we moved. I wish he had, too: he could have taken the seat between me and the old woman, leaned over, and started loudly asking her about every aspect of the story. “Whatcha reading? Is it any good? Who’s that person? Why did they say that? What’s happening on this page? Don’t turn it page, I’m not done yet!”
That would have been glorious. Oh well. Maybe I’ll adopt this tactic the next time somebody takes out a cell phone during a movie. “Who are you talking to? Tell them I said “hi!” Ask them if they’re wearing their sexy underpants…”
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Tags: ratbags with booklights, Real Life, theater, Why does "public" have to be full of other people?