Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Talking during movies

I went to see a movie the other day. It was called Texas Two Step or maybe it was just Two Step. I know I'm becoming a Texan more and more everyday because I'm compelled to put Texas in front of everything.

The movie was all right. It did some good things. I'm not here to review the movie. This isn't about the movie. This is about the audience.

I'm there, not eating popcorn because every time I eat popcorn I lose another tooth. I'm minding my own business. I turn my cell phone OFF because silent isn't enough. I'm there to see the goddamn flick. Right before the movie starts, some dude comes in behind me and sits next to his friends. He complained he saw only one movie during SXSW because the "lines were too long." I just had this feeling about the guy. I knew he was a fucking talker.

The people he was sitting with were happy to see him. Maybe he was the friend-group's film buff.

"Oooooh," the lady says, "You went to SXSW?"

Yes, lady! He just said he saw one movie. It was an abject failure.

But of course he elaborates on this non-story. "Yeah, I could only see the shorts feature because I couldn't get into anything else."

First things first, people. If you only got into one movie with a wristband, it's because you didn't try. There are plenty of movies nobody else wanted to see. I got into Assholes no problem because that movie was awful and everyone but me knew it.

Second things second, gente del mundo. Why even elaborate on this? Jesus Christ.

The movie gets started and I hear the most annoying of whispers. The lady says in a loud whisper, "This was filmed at my friend's house."

Now, I'm about ready to jump out of my seat and start strangling people but I keep calm because I'm concerned I'll ruin everybody else's movie going experience if I start partaking in a little casual murder. This sets off a conversation that lasts the entire movie.

"Is this the house?"


"Oh, this must be the house."

"No, I don't think so."

"Is her house the liquor store?"

"Is she homeless? Is her house that street?"

Finally, I go nuclear. I turn around and shush. The lady says, "Bless you."

What took me forty five minutes to muster was mistaken by the object of my hatred as a sneeze.

Why talk in a theater? Nobody gives a fuck where the movie was filmed. If you were in the movie, you wouldn't say anything. You'd wait until somebody noticed and then say something like, "Oh, it was nothing. I can't even act! BUY ME DINNER, SLAVE."

Rant over.

Invasion of the Weirdos comes out on Tuesday. I'm so excited. Go pre-order the damn thing. 

Weird Meat Buffet is an anthology that is going to come out in the next 24 hours. I'll keep you posted. Catfish McDaris is in it. I'm in it. Jack Arambula's in it. Cheryl Couture, Robert Dean, and many more. It's good. It's real fun.

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