I SO hate to be bested in a battle of wits by whippersnapper minimum wage workers who toil only to keep themselves in tattoos, cell phones, thongs, and makeup. I'm a curmudgeon like that.
The Pony wanted to go to the movies today, to see After Earth. The commercials looked interesting enough. I invited my mom, and off we went to the 1:45 showing. It's cheaper, you know. The first show of the day. Four dollars a ticket. Props to the kid selling them, who told me I didn't have to renew my AMC movie card just yet, even though they email me every week doomcrying that it's about to expire. We saved $30 dollars with it over the year, so I guess it's worth the $12 price.
We got there at 1:15 because we're early birds who like to claim our special seats at the back of the theater. Lucky for us, only a grandpa and a little boy were already inside. They were on the opposite side of the theater, about halfway down. No threat to us. My mom is kind of feisty sometimes. She said, "I'm going to sit in these two seats behind our row, so nobody will use them." A $9.00 daughter does not correct her mother.
The Pony wanted to get his popcorn right away. He usually has it eaten before the movie starts. However...I told him no. That at the fortune I would be paying, I was NOT buying stale popcorn. There was only one other movie showing so early, which had started at 1:15. When we entered the building, there was no fresh popcorn smell. That means they were using leftovers from last night. Don't act like they wouldn't do such a thing. You know they do.
The Pony had brought in a book to read by the dim light of the wall sconces. Mom and I chatted while listening to the First Look and other pre-movie propaganda. You notice I don't say watched. We only had sound. They do this all the time at this four-plex. I expect more from my minimum wage projectionists. We let it go. We've done that before, and the actual movie started with no picture. I think it was some Robin Hood thingy a couple years ago. Anyway, we listened, and watched people. I was determined not to buy the popcorn until we smelled something fresh.
The grandpa grew irritated with the sound only. He took his grandson and stomped out to give them what for. Mom said, "I should run over there and take their seats." She's a real imp. I reared my $9.00 daughter head and forbade that behavior. Four rowdies barged in. They glared at us, then stalked down to the very middle and scooted across mid-row. But not before the last one kicked the opposite door closed, and yanked the one on our side, too. What's up with that? They pay ushers to do that crap. These weren't teenagers, but a woman, man, and two kids. Surprise, surprise. I looked down to see the lady with her phone out texting madly, and the dude and one kid with their feet up on the chairs in front of them. The lack of a picture did not seem to matter.
With the doors closed, I could not smell popcorn. I got up to open ours. I stood behind my seat to talk some more with Mom. A worker came in to look at the dark screen. Because obviously, an old grandpa complaining that there was no picture was just trying to prank her. The Pony kept sighing. I went out to check on the popcorn freshness. No way. There was a line, and that girl had STILL not started popping, even though she was down to the bottom of the glass popper cabinet, metal showing. I returned to report. We waited some more. Mom went to check. "There's a big line now, but she is just scooping along those crumbs." When previews started at five minutes before movie time, Mom and I went out for snacks. Heh, heh. No line. The popper was just spitting out the first fresh kernels.
A man and boy were buying tickets, so I cut through the candy display to beat them to the counter. After all, FRESH popcorn was raining down into the bottom of the glass popcorn shower thingy. Then Mom had to jinx, it. "I hope she doesn't scoop that stale stuff out of the corners." A less-valuable daughter might have told her mother to bite her tongue. I did not. I flashed my AMC Stubs movie card to show that I was a high roller. I ordered the sodas. Then the popcorn.
That crazy counter girl went and stirred the kernels all together! Fresh and not. Middle and corners. I refused to let her have the upper hand. I vowed that no matter whether we wanted them or not, I was going to demand refills as we left.
I will bide more time when we return.
As for After Earth...meh. Not a masterpiece. Kind of wooden dialogue. Will Smith got paid for sitting on his butt the entire movie. The sciency part was not plausible. Even The Pony mouthed asides all the way through. "Really? They never visited Earth because it's too dangerous with all animals programmed to kill humans, yet they have the exact antivenom in the first aid kit for the one thing that poisons him?"
They lost me at the slug that STUNG young Jaden.Science teachers do not suffer bad science fiction gladly.
You are a movie popcorn expert!!
ReplyDeleteEven someone who is not an expert at science knows that all Jaden would have had to do to foil that slug is toss some salt on it. Or is it beer that kills slugs?
ReplyDeleteAnd I was so going to run right out and see that movie tomorrow. Oh well...
joeh,
ReplyDeleteI have many talents. I shall eat no kernel after its time.
******
Sioux,
Obviously you are one of those women murder writers my mom worries about actually committing murders for plot purposes. To save you some research, both methods kill slugs. Salt by a sizzling dehydration torture method. Beer in a more joyous drunken drowning alternative.
If you are a fan of Will Smith, Jaden Smith, movies that drag, wooden acting, stilted dialogue, pretty CGI scenery, or a monster called an Ursa (which means BEAR) that looks nothing like a bear...this is the movie for you! Especially if you can see it for four dollars, and get fresh popcorn.
I am offended. I even know what "Ursa Major" and "Ursa Minor" are...
DeleteMadam, I might be a teacher of childish children, but my knowledge occasionally extends past the 3rd grade level...
Sioux,
DeleteWe science teachers never fully trust 3rd grade teachers. For all we know, you might be drilling into the heads of those childish children: "Ursa Major" is your big shoulder, and "Ursa Minor" is your little shoulder. Like, 'Ow! I have a bad case of ursitis in my big shoulder from volunteering answers using the Horshack method.'