...In Which I Pay Eleven Dollars to Not See Two Movies
Actually, it's not that deep. Shit happens, blah blah blah. But it does underscore how long it's been since I've been to the movies with someone else (Iron Fist doesn't count). After a clusterfuck shambola of a parking situation, we got to the theater in time to miss almost all of the previews (thank God, because if I see the trailer for Lakeview Terrace ONE MORE GATTDAMN TIME) but also too late to find two seats together. Pacific Culver City was mad packed! What in the crispy coated hell?! That place is usually empty.
Practically the only seats that were available were in the front two rows. No dice. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't sit there. Why do they even put seats that close?! Fuck off, movie people. My eleven dollars wasn't enough? Now you have to take my dignity?
So, ever the sportsman, I let my friend sit in the one aisle seat available and I claimed booty space on the steps. I was fine. Needless to say, I got booted about 5 minutes in by an officious usher who tried to fool me into thinking that there were seats available. Rather than step over an aisle full of people trying to find some mythical lost seat of Atlantis, I just rolled out and decided to see Pineapple Express instead. But I had to leave before it was over so that I could catch VC when Tropic Thunder ended because she had no idea where the fuck I had gone and I didn't have my phone on me because it's dead because I lost the charger in Vegas and so here my dumb ass is, two hours later, having seen bits and pieces of two different fucking movies I wasn't that jazzed about in the first motherfucking place and THIS IS WHY I GO TO MOVIES ALONE. Because other people make life complicated.