Tonight I went to the movies. By myself. I suppose that is a really, really strange thing for a person to do but the truth is, I love movies so much that i do it all the time. I usually try to seem nonchalant; I show up 20 mins early, buy my ticket, and then rush in to the theatre where I can settle down in a seat tucked into the back corner before I can be spotted. Today, I detoured to the concession stand because Grandma was feeling a little under the weather (a.k.a. hung over from bridge last night) and didn't feel up to cooking supper.
Wouldn't you know it...the guy working the concession stand was incredibly cute. Well...maybe not incredibly cute but he was flirting with me and if that isn't incredible than i don't know what to believe. I had to pretend I was at the movies with a friend, who was already in the theatre, so that he didn't get a whif of the fact that I am a depressed loner who lives with a binge drinking, borderline incontenant senior. I was grateful that he didn't ask about my mysterious friend, because impov is not my thing....i'm a bad liar.
Unfortunately, this means that from now on i am probably going to have to bring someone to the movies with me in the future. Concession boy, as it turns out, may be worth impressing. I have compiled a list of possible candidates to act as my potential excorts :
1) Grandma. Not a good idea as they do not have an open bar at the theatre, so she probably couldn't be enticed to go near it. Also, apparently her snoring makes it hard for others to hear
the film.
2) Someone at work. Several things wrong with that idea (yessss sublist!)
a) I go to the big cineplex uptown, where most of the snobbish people I work with at the video store wouldn't be caught dead. Most of the employees at the movie store I work at like small, independant, artsy flicks that would never get played at the theatre I go to.
b) Many of them are hipsters who rarely shower and are too stoned to function
c) Many of the rest of them are creepy middle-aged men that hit on me constantly
d) ick
3) The mosquito living on my wall. I've named him Paulo. I've agreed not to kill him and he, in return, has agreed not to give me West Nile Virus. Thoughtful Paulo.
4) My cousin. Blithering, blithering fool. I feel comfortable writing this, because I'm certain she will never read it. That is because I suspect she is quite illiterate.
5) One of my other friends. I feel bad calling them and interrupting their busy lives. It's not easy being imaginary.
By the way, concession stand boy's name is Jacob.
Goodnight,
Zeph
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment