Four of Them

I've read, like, two articles on this subject today already, but as I read horror stories, I get more mad, so here it is:

When I went to see Alice in Wonderland this weekend--which I forgot the minute I left the theatre, it was just so meh--this girl sat down. With some friends. She looks pretty slutty--I say this because she wore a tank top and nothing-shirts and sandels, which is not bad in itself, if it hadn't been 40 degrees outside, and she hadn't been wearing her hair like those Jersey Shore people. Seriously, this thing blocked out the screen.

She has to sit in front of me, of course. So they talktalktalk--her, her friends, and this one guy she keeps making out with loudly--right up until the trailers, where they go quiet. Me, relieved, because I was so very tempted to beat her with the flash drive I had in my pocket, as it was the hardest thing I had on me.

Then, the movie starts. The entire fucking time, this skankidy skankasaur is stage-whispering, planting loud kisses on this guy that looks like an extra from Paranoid Park, and generally spreading herpes to that particular seat. I'm sitting there, silently judging and cursing her into oblivion, can barely concentrate on the movie (there was nothing to see, really, but the pictures were pretty).

I hate it when people talk in a movie. Whenever you shush them, which I rarely do, because I'm so bad at verbal argument I almost always just pull their hair if I have to yell, and besides, all anybody ever agrues anymore is 'bitch' 'cunt' 'skank' 'loser', etc, they always tell you they paid for the ticket, they'll do what they want. Well, genius, so did everyone else in the fucking theatre, and they don't give a shit about your running commentary on how hunkalicious Johnny Depp was in Pirates of the Caribbean.

Oh, yes, and texting. Phone calls of any kind. My dear sister does this a lot, the skank. I'll tell her, Danielle, turn off your phone, the movie's starting. And she'll say, shut up. And I'll say, I'll throw that stupid fucking phone outside, you hosebag. And she'll say, shut your stupid face. And then I'll will the phone to go all Carrie 2 on her ass, but it never does. She always says, I'll put it on vibrate. But whenever she gets a text on vibrate, it sounds like a dying, whining cow and it's awful. So I try not to go to movies with my blasphemous sister, because all she does is text. And the cell phone never slices her neck open. Which is always disappointing.

So, yeah. Movies aren't fucking rainbow parties. You know what I mean. Sluts.

Shut up during the movie.