Drink Rum

Anyone who knows me or has read the blog (both of you) knows that I'm not much of a fan of the general population. It's nothing personal, mind you, I just don't see a point to the majority of people that I encounter. Every now and then I start to get soft on that perspective and then am faced with an encounter with the "huddled masses yearning to be annoying" which sets me squarely back in line. 99% of the human race exists to annoy, delay, and generally rankle me.

I wonder if I spelled that correctly. Rankle. Wrankle? Rankel? Spelling Nazi's be warned, I already consider this a gross waste of time even considering the spelling of the word... there'll be no more of that in this post. Let the type-os beginn.

The other day I went to the movies. I like movies. Well... I like some movies. A few. OK I'm rather finicky about the movies I watch... but the ones I like... I really like. I've tended to avoid movie theaters in the past decade. Because I like the big movie experience, I built my own theater in the basement. I've got a nice 10 foot wide wall mounted screen, and HD projector, and THX(2) certified DD 7.1/DTS 6.1 (those letters and numbers are very important to justify the expense) sound system. I think my set up rivals most actual theaters. The one thing that it is missing, however, is the throng of people.

Anyway, back to going to the movies. After taking out a second mortgage to buy matinee tickets at a whopping $8.75 a piece and spending the gross national product of Latvia on a tub of popcorn the size of Puerto Rico and a Cherry Coke in what appeared to be a keg (only $.50 more for a large!) I worked my way through the fairly light crowd to theater number 73 for my afternoon showing of Harry Potter and the Pimple Cream Crown or something.

I got there early in order to see the trailers new movies I have no intention of seeing. I was instead greeted with advertisements for cell phone carriers and told what a great place a movie theater could be in the event of a birthday party or corporate meeting. I was also introduced to the new Fall line up of wonderful sitcoms on NBC. Seinfeld 2 Electric Boogaloo looked stellar.

The theater was moderate in size, maybe with seating for 200. I don't know. Maybe 500. Anyway, the joint was about 1/4 full. Not too many people there. Which is the way I liked it. I'm sitting in a comfy chair in roughly the middle area when in walks this lady who decided to sit right next to me. Not a seat or two over, but right next to me. I'm thinking maybe she's confused but nope, she just thinks it's a better idea to sit right next to me. Even my usual gas passing of justice (trademarked) did nothing to move this lady.

Eventually her husband joined her. In his wisdom he questioned why she felt the need to sit right next to me as well. Yay for him. So after debating she finally moved a seat over.

Thank Bacardi that was over.

Until the mother-in-law showed up.

This wonderfully round lady opted to reoccupy the seat between myself and the first personal space violator. The row has 25 seats in it. Why, oh why the need to sit next to me? Also, she smelled like old lady. That creepy mix of cat urine and caramel candy.

Before I could get up to move, the lights dimmed and the movie started.

Fine. I'd just stay put. There was someone else a couple seats over and moving to the other side wouldn't have worked and I didn't feel like changing rows in the dark. So Harry Pooter and the Half Wit Donkey starts up and I'm reminded that adult English actors are a treat to watch. British teen actors are like watching the surgery channel.... it's just gross, man. There's one child actor who I recall was a really ugly child and seems to be well on his way to becoming a really ugly adult. Oh well, at least there's Alan Rickman.

"WHAT'S THAT ACTORS NAME?"

The sound came from the creepy old lady to my right. Loudly.

"WHICH ONE IS HARRY POTTER?"

"WHAT DID HE SAY?"

At that point I began wondering if there was a way to choke someone out using a box of Goobers. A $25 box of Goobers.

Finally, Voldemort's mom quieted down. At least until it was time to open the buffet.

She'd brought in a large old lady bag full of food products. She started zipping, unzipping, and rustling through an entire Whole Foods (that's redundant) store worth of crap. Snack cakes. A Hostess Fruit Pie. A ham. A fistful of potato salad. I did finally draw the line. If she pulled out a hard boiled egg, I was going to kill her.

She didn't. After chomping through a pineapple, she finally stopped the feed. Then she sucked her teeth for the next hour.

I don't really know what the movie was about. There was a wand in it. Alan Rickman wore black. I think that's it. It was kinda like crossing Fast Times at Ridgemont High with Lord of the Rings... without the cleverness of character of Fast Times or the sense of scope and awe of the Rings films.

I'm so much looking forward to returning to the viewing comforts of my home theater. It costs less, is more comfortable, and I can choose who sits next to me.

Posted by Monty at 10:09 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Wow... so like... the last post I made here was almost 7 months ago. I wonder where I was and why I never posted anything. It's quite possible that I forgot how to be funny during those months. What a dreadful thought.

Enough on that, let's talk about toilets. Nothing is more fun in the world than a shared toilet.... ya know, the neighboring stalls... the urinals for the boys... maybe a special hat rack or something for the girls. (I have no idea... a girls bathroom could be like Turkish prison for all I know... it's a mystery.) Anyway, people always get extra twitchy when encountering other people the communal room of bodily functions. I think most people would just as soon not have to encounter anyone at all in their comings and goings and goings in the bathroom.

Not me. No. I think it's the perfect time to meet people. And my meet, of course, I mean make jokes around while making others uncomfortable. Fun!

My favorite thing to do to hang out in a stall with a tub of guacamole. Just wait until someone comes along and parks in the stall next to you. Then just drop a healthy dollop of guac on the floor near your new bath friend. You can enhance the effect by uttering "Huh." "Would you look at that." or "My God what just happened?" If you get no reaction, cough and fling down another handful of guacamole.

This a simple one... just yell "Stick 'em up! I'm the hiney bandit and I've come for you!"

Something else you can do to amuse yourself... or do and write on your blog about is to just camp out in there and pop bubble wrap. Just keep doing it at a steady pace... maybe every now and then shout out the name of a former US president.

This next one is for advanced bathroom hijinks. It involves coordinating the replacement of the cannons in the 1812 Overture with flatulation. I suggest this only be tried by pros. Beginners should stick to sitting in the stall and just sing the "When you're driving in your Chevy and feel something heavy... diarrhea!" song. Now that I think about... just sing anything. That's usually enough.

For the musically inclined, you could take an instrument in with you and offer to take requests from anyone. Showtunes are always winners in this situation. Do not, repeat do not use this tactic to try to break into the music business. Warner Bros music did not approve of it at all. Not that I know. Neither did Arista.

Here's a fun one. After your neighbor sits down to join you... make a few grunting noises. Don't sound like you're dying, but demonstrate the effort. After a bit begin verbalizing with a few "ah man"s and "come on!"s. Finally shout "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice! and then produce a loud sigh of relief.

Something you can do to make eternal friends is to reach under the partion wall and offer your new friend a cupcake. Please don't use chocolate icing. That's just gross. Sprinkles are essential as will be your winning "thumbs up" if they actually take the cupcake out of your hand. If they don't, feel free to leave it there. In case they change their minds.

If you want to engage your new potty friend, I suggest a round of "Guess What That Was!" Through audio and olfactory clues, you'll try to guess what your opponent ate to produce... well... their current condition. This can be tough... but when in doubt, go Mexican.

Something to consider is what to do if you end up in the middle of two new neighbors at the same time. Under no circumstances should you ignore one in favor of the other. While you entertain to your left, offer the patron to you right a coloring book or a rubic's cube to pass the time. One day you may be able to develop the skills to get a game of Uno going between the three of you.

A final word of warning. Don't do this if your boss comes in the bathroom. Not only will they not find it funny, but they might actually think you're not a good "fit" for the company and ask you to "take the show on the road". Also, don't perform these stunts with HR people nearby, they often call EMTs or psychiatric people and that ruins everything.

Posted by Monty at 3:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)