Today, my seven year old daughter and I decided to see the new movie "Underdog". We arrrived with just seconds to spare, after waiting in line to get popcorn and a hotdog. As we stood there in the darkened theater, allowing our eyes to adjust, we spotted two seats together in a prime spot. Perfect. Or so I thought.
My daughter and I were seated between a 50-ish year old man, and a 30-ish year old woman with her elderly mother. As we climbed into our seats, popcorn, hotdog and bottled waters in hand, I helped my seven year old push her seat down with my knee, handed her the hotdog, and placed the bag of popcorn next to her on the seat. With waters in hand, I plopped down in what I thought was my seat. The loud "crunch" sound told me otherwise!
The freshly dispensed bag of popcorn, with extra butter no less, was sitting where my butt intended to sit! I had overshot my chair in the dark and landed on my daughter's chair! I could feel the warm melted butter soaking into my shirt and pants as I sat there for a millisecond deciding how to rectify the situation without disturbing too many people around me.
I scooted my rear end over onto my real seat and reached around my backside to brush the popcorn away through the crack in the chair. So much for not making a mess. I didn't even want to think about the large grease stain my shirt and pants would have once I stood up! Thank God for Zout! It gets out everything!
As the movie continued, and I settled into my greasy seat, the woman and her mother seated beside me stood up....right in the middle of the row. The mother says "I left my purse all the way up there!" not in a whisper, but in a regular tone of voice. The two ladies then proceeded to clammor over my feet and hurry up to one of the higher rows (I'm assuming they initially sat there when they first came in). When they arrived at the higher row, they asked everyone sitting there to find her purse. For real!
Now, I'm not unsympathetic about the fear that is struck in a woman when her purse is gone from her side. Having lost my purse four times in the course of my 41 years, I can vouch for the fact that it is a very unsettling and unnerving thing to know your purse is not with you. What seemed odd to me about this mother daughter team was that they spoke as if they were in a gymnasium, not a movie theater. Full volume, no attempt to be discreet about the whole thing.
As her purse was retrieved, they came down the steps to return to the seats next to me. This time I offered the older woman my hand and asked if I could help her pass. She took it, said thank you and sat in her chair. The younger lady flew by me, snipping the ends of my size 10 feet with her sneakers and PLOPPED into the chair right beside me with a loud thump. She found this funny, so she giggled in that loud voice of hers and slapped her thigh, as if that was the most hilarious thing.
Chuckling to myself, I brushed them off as just two ladies having a bad day. Then, the talking started. Within minutes of reseating themselves, the younger one said, and I kid you not, "YADA YADA YADA". Full voice, no other sound but the movie playing to be heard. I turned to look at her and realized there was something different about this woman. In that split second, it dawned on me that she was probably developmentally delayed....which is fine. Now I know, so I can explain to my child why this person is talking so loudly.
Seeing the age of her mother, it's quite possible that this woman has cared for her adult child all of her life. It's probably an easy assumption to make that she has gotten used to this kind of behavior from her daughter and doesn't realize how loud she is being. It's also a real possibility that this mother is just too tired to correct her daughter for the zillionth time in her life.
Either way, my movie viewing got more interesting from that point on. This woman spent the next hour pushing against my leg, laughing at a decibel loud enough to be heard in the next cinema, talking out loud to her mother, elbowing me in the ribs, and slapping her thigh with her hand. Believe me, this movie was not that funny. Cute, chuckleish, predictable---a kid's movie.
I sat through it all with a smile on my face and glad to be alive. I had no ill feelings toward this woman, just curious about why her mother didn't try to quiet her down at all. Not once. Nada. I'll probably never know.
My daughter and I were seated between a 50-ish year old man, and a 30-ish year old woman with her elderly mother. As we climbed into our seats, popcorn, hotdog and bottled waters in hand, I helped my seven year old push her seat down with my knee, handed her the hotdog, and placed the bag of popcorn next to her on the seat. With waters in hand, I plopped down in what I thought was my seat. The loud "crunch" sound told me otherwise!
The freshly dispensed bag of popcorn, with extra butter no less, was sitting where my butt intended to sit! I had overshot my chair in the dark and landed on my daughter's chair! I could feel the warm melted butter soaking into my shirt and pants as I sat there for a millisecond deciding how to rectify the situation without disturbing too many people around me.
I scooted my rear end over onto my real seat and reached around my backside to brush the popcorn away through the crack in the chair. So much for not making a mess. I didn't even want to think about the large grease stain my shirt and pants would have once I stood up! Thank God for Zout! It gets out everything!
As the movie continued, and I settled into my greasy seat, the woman and her mother seated beside me stood up....right in the middle of the row. The mother says "I left my purse all the way up there!" not in a whisper, but in a regular tone of voice. The two ladies then proceeded to clammor over my feet and hurry up to one of the higher rows (I'm assuming they initially sat there when they first came in). When they arrived at the higher row, they asked everyone sitting there to find her purse. For real!
Now, I'm not unsympathetic about the fear that is struck in a woman when her purse is gone from her side. Having lost my purse four times in the course of my 41 years, I can vouch for the fact that it is a very unsettling and unnerving thing to know your purse is not with you. What seemed odd to me about this mother daughter team was that they spoke as if they were in a gymnasium, not a movie theater. Full volume, no attempt to be discreet about the whole thing.
As her purse was retrieved, they came down the steps to return to the seats next to me. This time I offered the older woman my hand and asked if I could help her pass. She took it, said thank you and sat in her chair. The younger lady flew by me, snipping the ends of my size 10 feet with her sneakers and PLOPPED into the chair right beside me with a loud thump. She found this funny, so she giggled in that loud voice of hers and slapped her thigh, as if that was the most hilarious thing.
Chuckling to myself, I brushed them off as just two ladies having a bad day. Then, the talking started. Within minutes of reseating themselves, the younger one said, and I kid you not, "YADA YADA YADA". Full voice, no other sound but the movie playing to be heard. I turned to look at her and realized there was something different about this woman. In that split second, it dawned on me that she was probably developmentally delayed....which is fine. Now I know, so I can explain to my child why this person is talking so loudly.
Seeing the age of her mother, it's quite possible that this woman has cared for her adult child all of her life. It's probably an easy assumption to make that she has gotten used to this kind of behavior from her daughter and doesn't realize how loud she is being. It's also a real possibility that this mother is just too tired to correct her daughter for the zillionth time in her life.
Either way, my movie viewing got more interesting from that point on. This woman spent the next hour pushing against my leg, laughing at a decibel loud enough to be heard in the next cinema, talking out loud to her mother, elbowing me in the ribs, and slapping her thigh with her hand. Believe me, this movie was not that funny. Cute, chuckleish, predictable---a kid's movie.
I sat through it all with a smile on my face and glad to be alive. I had no ill feelings toward this woman, just curious about why her mother didn't try to quiet her down at all. Not once. Nada. I'll probably never know.
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