At long last, I made it to the movies to see Walk the Line. I decided to play hookey from my science class (skipping class on only the second day of instruction can't be a good sign as to my chances of excelling this quarter) to go see an afternoon showing. I went to the Pacific Trolley Cinema, and was surprised that there were some customers there, seniors mostly, for the early show on a Wednesday. I also noticed there was some commotion at the front of the line, where an argument between an elderly customer and an employee was concluding. I didn't catch the substance of the argument, but the gentleman took his ticket and went inside, saying something about how his wife would be following him shortly. The guy in front of me bought his ticket, also yelling at the box office employee for raising her voice in anger (in fact, she just wanted him to be able to hear her), I purchased mine, and went inside.

The trailers had just concluded, and I quickly and quietly took my seat in the back row as the feature began. About five minutes later, an old woman came in, flashlight in hand, and took a seat in my row, shining her flashlight around the theater in the process, and then starts digging in her apparently-velcro-fastened purse for something (cell phone? hard candy wrapped in cellophane? air horn? I couldn't say), and making various noises to accompany the movie. A few minutes later, it is discovered that she is apparently the wife of the old man I saw arguing at the ticket booth, who was sitting on the opposite side of the auditorium. The have a loud and hearty reunion at the back of the theater, discussing in great detail the fact that they both apparently sat in different parts of the theater, but now had cheerfully been joined together to enjoy the film (if they ever bothered to pay attention to it). And joy of joys, rather than she joining him in his quadrant of the theater, they were coming back to my row. Again the flashlight is deployed, with far less care this time, and once seated, their conversation turns to the fact that apparently the woman dropped something. Fortunately, they have a flashlight, to shine up my row, and the rows further up. Why oh why do they insist on keeping theaters dark?

I tried to ignore them, but finally I had had enough. I got up, walked over to them, and told them, "Whatever you dropped, you can find it after the film, when the lights are up. For now, sit down and shut up and watch the movie." Naturally, they were silent at that point, until I had taken my seat further down the row, so that the gentleman could shout his witty rejoinder, "I think YOU should sit down and shut up," loud enough for the entire theater to hear. So I get back up, get in his face, and quietly yet sternly tell him to shut up, lest I shut him up. I sit down, and the woman, sweet cherub that she is, starts shining her flashlight in my eyes, like it's a fucking lightsaber. I briefly considered grabbing the flashlight from her shriveled monkey's paw of a hand, with a triumphant shout of "Now I keep it!" but decided that might be construed as escalating the situation. So I reached the conclusion that I would no longer be able to enjoy the movie, and I went to find the manager and get a pass to return. He offered to speak to the couple, which I encouraged him to do, for the other patron's sake, but said I felt I'd rather just leave. So I got my free pass and left, blood pressure gradually subsiding, to hopefully return this weekend or next week.

This is why I don't go to the movies more often. Yes, having to pay for movies these days (now that I'm no longer in the industry) is a drag, but the main reason why I watch more and more films on DVD is that at least three out of four trips to the cinema, the audience has a negative impact on my enjoyment of a film. Usually not this dramatically, and I've actually been lucky the last few times I went to the movies prior to this, but overall the problem is getting out of hand. Living in a border town, most of our television and radio broadcasts originate from Tijuana, which permits stronger broadcast signals than the U.S. One of the requirements on T.J.-originating broadcasters is to run Mexican public service announcements. Recently, they've been airing one that reminds the citizens of Mexico to treat each other with respect. "Today, many citizens will want to be the first one on the bus, but they will still wait in line." And so on. The first time I saw the ad, it struck me as incredibly odd, and most certainly ineffective. But maybe we need this message spread to our citizenry, as well. With enforced indoctrination on theater etiquette for those found in violation of prevailing standards.

I remember when I was in elementary school, watching filmstrips in the library, the librarian had to explain to me that I couldn't talk while watching the film, because while I thought I was being quiet, I was actually shouting in order to hear myself over my earphones. So let me explain this to you, Mr. and Mrs. Elderly American: I am sorry that you are losing your hearing. I am sorry you are losing your eyesight. I understand this will happen to me someday, and I don't wish to be inconsiderate. But when you whisper to your spouse, it may sound like a whisper to you, but it ain't a whisper. So when you go to the movies, don't speak. And if you can't see in the dark, bring a flashlight if you must, but arrive on time and take your seat before the film begins!

And let this be a lesson to all of you out there: If you're an elderly couple (or a woman holding a baby), don't piss me off, because I'm not afraid to stand up to you.