It happens to me every time. I finally get a chance to do something fun and someone else’s innate rudeness ruins it. I thought this time would be different. Between work, the kids, and the world gone crazy. I haven’t seen a movie in a theater in four years. Today, I convinced my husband to take the kids to the park to play for a few hours and snuck off to the theater. When I told him I wanted to see the latest chick flick, he didn’t fight to join me.
The first half of the movie flows smoothly. The only noises around me are almost imperceptible chewing and the occasional rustle of a wrapper, but those are quickly stilled. I’m able to sink into the story and get invested in the heroine’s pursuit of real love despite her suitor’s cluelessness. An underlying storyline adds enough action that my husband would have enjoyed the movie far more than either of us could have guessed. I don’t take time to ponder whether or not I will let him know that because I am too interested in where the writers and directors will take my new friends before the lights go back on.
As the final showdown commences, a soft ring pulls me out of the story. I am no longer watching from a distance and wondering if the male lead will be brave enough to tell the woman he loves the secrets of his heart. My connection to the heroine slips away and I no longer care if she says ‘yes’. I am back in a darkened theater, surrounded by strangers. A soft glow shines from over my left shoulder as one of those strangers turns on their cellphone.
“Hello.” The soft whisper strikes a chord.
I half turn to peer at the speaker.
“Oh, Harry.” The soft whisper gives way to a familiar laugh.
Pulled out of the movie completely, I turn the rest of the way around. I find myself face to face with my boss. Seeing me looking at her, she waves me off.
“Some of us are watching the movie.” I whisper. “Could you take that outside?”
“Jess?” She leans in to peer into my face, covering the phone with her hand. “Just turn around and mind your own business.”
“I would, but…” I point at her cell phone.
She rolls her eyes and puts the phone back to her ear. “Sorry, a former employee thought now was the time to chat.” She laughed again.
I close my mouth over my next salvo. Another watcher leans in to ask her to put her phone away. A tall man with thinning hair adds his support. Soon an usher comes hurrying down the aisle to escort her out. We turn back to the movie, but now I have been completely ripped from the story. My perfect afternoon of solitude dashed into a million pieces. I can’t help but be distracted by one question: do I have a job to go to tomorrow?
~~I know I am not the only one who despises when someone starts talking on their cell phone during a movie. I have even seen it parodied in a few, but isn’t it so much worse when it is someone you know? And totally embarrassing when it is someone in your party of moviegoers? I have had this happen. It was usually the same person. I don’t go to movies with them anymore. Actually, I am surprised they still talk to me, since I am not nice when expressing my opinions on this subject, but they have not fired me as a friend.~~
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