I forgot to mention the lone exception to my enjoyment of Die Hard v4.0.
I forgot to mention the shaggy-haired unshaven teenager. The one next to me who thought he was going to talk to the screen the whole time. The only loud mouthed idiot in the whole theater just HAD to sit next to me, right?
He started when they were rolling the trailers. Something about no soul food in China during "Rush Hour 3."
I tried to block out his gibberish.
But after he cranked up his second outburst of chimpery, I stared at him and asked, "Hey, Slick. Are you going to talk during the whole movie, or just the credits?"
He didn't look at me, but said, "Oh, sorry," all moppy like. As if I had ripped up his favorite Yugioh card.
To his credit he made it about 2/3rds the way through the movie before his Idiot Gene resumed control again. And he started talking to the damn screen again. Something like, "Yeah, get you some! Get you some...." which totally disrupted my feng shui.
So I twisted in my seat, leaned in next to him, looked PAST him and at his shaggy-haired buddies, pointed to the empty seat at the end of the aisle and loudly said, "Why don't you sit on the other side of your buddies and do you Tourette's thing over there? I'm trying to watch this movie."
His buddies recoiled. But he didn't blink. Wouldn't look at me. Just shut up. And let me enjoy the rest of the flick.
The four of them didn't jump me afterwards. I would have put a mean indian burn on at least one of them. But they had age and numbers on their side.
I guess I made a big impression?
Monday, July 16, 2007
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