Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Fever Pitch (9June05) -- Finally!

Our latest Cheap Theater Adventure was once again delayed, due to the fact that, on Tuesday, Paul was in a different state. He got in late that night (actually, after 1 on Wednesday morning), thereby making Wednesday a day of recovery. So Thursday was movie day.

Since Thursday isn't exactly a buzzing day at The Cheap Theater, the poor guy at the concession stand was doing triple duty -- ticket sales, backup concessions (fortunately, he had help there), and ticket-ripping. I hope he got paid extra for covering three normal jobs.

I expected us to be watching Fever Pitch pretty much by ourselves, for a couple of factor:

1) It was Thursday. Why pay $1.50 to see a movie on Thursday when you could pay the same to see it on the weekend?

2) It's a Red Sox movie, and Columbus is mainly split into Reds fans and Indians fans.

But I forgot one big factor:

3) It was 92 and humid, and I'm guessing that anyone who lives in a home without air-conditioning would pay the $1.50 to see anything in a nice, cool theater -- even if it starred Ben Affleck. So the place was surprisingly full.

There was one couple in particular, however, that caught my attention as we waited for the movie to start. They were dressed as though they had been on their way back from dinner at the country club when they decided to do something entirely bourgeois -- like seeing a movie in an actual movie theater. They paraded down the aisle and selected seats a couple of rows ahead of us and across the aisle.

"Oh, dear!" the woman (let's call her Muffy) exclaimed as she took her seat. "This seat is lumpy!"

I snickered and whispered to Paul, "For a buck-fifty, what did she expect, a La-Z-Boy and a butler serving caviar?" As a matter of fact, I, too, have sat in The Lumpy Seat before, but I figured it was understandable. After all, the aisle seat in an old theater like that has most likely gotten more ass than Tom Jones.

Muffy's husband (let's call him Charles) took it rather lightly, quietly replying, "Oh, it's probably just worn out a bit." He kindly switched seats with her.

"See?" she shrieked as he sat down. "Isn't it horrible?"

Charles, who most likely used to sneak out with his friends after a long day at the prep school to sit in the theater with the riff-raff to see Rocky movies, took it like the man that he dreams of being someday. He sat down and shut up. Then he promptly stood up after receiving Muffy's demand for a small popcorn and a small Coke (preferably with a side of Beluga).

I thought I'd seen it all at The Cheap Theater. The Crazy Old Man in Cut-Offs and Stripper Boots and the Goth Kids. The Laughers. The Clueless. The parents with their screaming infants. The Seat-kickers, accompanied by the Chatty Kid. But I'd never seen anything like Charles and Muffy. And I doubt if I'll see them again. After all, one can take just so much of the bourgeoisie.


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