restrain yourself.

I HATE YOU

by Jessica Zafra (jessicarulestheuniverse.com)

You and your friends are going to the movies. You’re already at the mall, so you decide to buy the tickets right there instead of getting them online.

You line up at the box-office. The next screening of the movie you want to see starts in twenty minutes, but there’s just one couple ahead of you in the queue, so there should be no problem.

That’s what you think.

They’re clinging tightly to each other like survivors of a shipwreck washed up on an island and surrounded by predators waiting to snatch their precious mates, but that’s none of your business.

When the ticket-seller asks them which movie they intend to see, they respond by asking her what movies are showing. The marquee is in their faces and there are posters marked “Now Showing” in the lobby, but apparently these unfortunate people never learned to read. The ticket-seller rattles off the titles of the movies. They ask her to repeat them. Then they ask her who’s starring in each movie, and what the movie is about. They discuss the movies among themselves, including reviews they’ve read on the Internet, and the opinions expressed by people who have seen the movies.

This takes five minutes. You can fidget and clear your throat all you want, but they will not be moved.

Finally they reach a decision as to which movie they will see. Oh, happy day! Now you can get your tickets…

They look at the screening schedules and confer as to which time would be most convenient for them. What about the 4pm, he asks. I want to go shopping first, she replies. But we’re expected at 7pm, he reminds her. They discuss their mealtimes, weekend itineraries, shopping lists and so on. It is way more information than the ticket-seller or you, the hapless people in line behind them, can possibly need.

You are losing your patience, but you restrain yourself; you politely mention to them that your movie is about to start and suggest that they either pick up the pace or allow you to get your tickets while they are mulling over their new proof of Fermat’s theorem. If they heard you, they give no indication; their total lack of consideration for other humans (plus monstrous sense of entitlement) protects them like a force field. In the end they do what indecisive twerps have done through the ages. They call her mother and make her choose the time. Calloo, callay!

Now comes the real challenge: selecting the seats. They look at the diagram on the screen, then refer to the printed version, but their faces are void of comprehension. They may as well be taking a calculus exam. Which side is the screen on again? Do the X’s mean the seats are taken or not? She wants a seat in the back because she gets headaches at the movies, but he’s forgotten his glasses so he needs to sit close to the screen…

A millisecond before you go Christian Bale on them, they conclude the transaction and wander off to the refreshments stand, where they will infuriate several dozen more people. You and your friends get to your movie ten seconds into the opening credits. You have missed the trailers.