...of charm and strange: the blog

This story really ought to be filed under the greater category of "Moviegoing Horror Stories" and thrown in the pile of things to erase from my memory forever, but this particular experience was something special.

So I was bumming around Seattle last Friday with nowhere to go and no car to boot, so I decided to see the new Quentin Tarantino flick while I was waiting for Luke to get off work. It was opening day, so I was expecting the multiplex to be quite a bit crowded, and it was. So I bought a ticket for the show that started in half an hour. When I went upstairs to grab a seat early, I was directed to a lineup. Except there was no lineup, just a sign and a roped-off area. Apprehensively, I shuffled to the front of a new line, which always makes me uncomfortable because it makes me look like one of those freaks who lines up for the new Star Wars movie five years in advance.

And then the nerds started pouring in. The ones that haven't seen the light of day since the last Tarantino movie. The ones that are totally balding, but have beards and long hair. The ones that buy extra-large popcorn and stuff it in their faces while arguing about cult movie trivia. The ones who have never interacted with a human female before, except when they have nerdy girlfriends who look almost exactly like them anyway.

And each and every one of them had to pass me on their way to the back of the line, taking time to look at me and snicker on their way. As if I had been there for days. As if I didn't have a date. Oh, wait. I really didn't have one. But wait a second! You can't judge me. Look at you! And it's 2:30 PM. You probably took the day off work to come here! I just happened to get out of school early. Suck it, Cankles.

The second part of this story involves the guy who was sitting directly next to me, who stuffed his mouth full of chewing tobacco just as the lights went down, and proceeded to spit into a paper cup every 10 or 15 seconds for the next half an hour.

I'll say it again: chewing tobacco. CHEWING TOBACCO!

I was like, we are not in Texas, nor are we seeing Open Range! What are you doing? He was trying to be all discreet and shit, too, like he really thought nobody was noticing. He wasn't exactly spitting, he was sort of squishing it out of his mouth into the cup, then wiping his mouth off with the edge of the cup. It was many things, but "discreet" wasn't one of them. I think they're actually trying to kill me now. They've read my website. Next time I go to the multiplex there will be people riding in on horseback, or describing the entire film out loud for a blind friend, or juggling, or wearing a big sombrero.

The whole thing was so horrifying it was sort of funny. But, of course, I couldn't immediately share my reaction with anyone because I didn't have a date.

And you just know Tobacco Guy was totally judging me, too.