8 Simple Rules For Being Polite in a Movie Theater

 

There’s been an asinine debate raging in my specific corner of Twitter for the last few days about theater etiquette. In short one person argued that it should be fine to snap a discrete picture of something during a movie in a theater which prompted a pile-on from hardcore theater goers insisting that any phone use during a movie is a no-no. The original poster has dug in and created optimal scenarios where phone use should be ok, while everyone responding replies with hardcore “no phone” policies.

I don’t care to call out the specific people here, because, frankly, the original poster seems to be trolling, and the responders are clutching too many pearls. This got me thinking though about what “proper movie theater protocol” really is.

Ideally, everyone shows up to the theater and quietly submits to the quiet and darkness of the theater while enjoying the brightness and volume of the movie they paid to see. Personally, that is what I practice. I turn my phone off when the movie begins and I sit in silence. I’m not perfect though. For years, I did think that going to a movie with a friend meant I had to make side comments throughout. I stopped that after the first time someone called me out on that, but there were a lot of years when I no doubt annoyed some patrons. There are times when I’ve seen movies where I did need to leave my phone on and check it on occasion. I do feel comfortable that I was sufficiently discrete in my phone use, but maybe someone did notice. I’m certain I’m in the 99^th percentile of theater etiquette hard-liners and even I’m not perfect.

Not to mention there are distractions that we’ve all agreed are acceptable. Like, someone leaving to go to the bathroom is as distracting as a bright phone screen, but since ‘nature calls’, I’ve never complained about that. Or how about people showing up late? I don’t know their story; why they’re late? I’m not in favor of theater doors closing for good at a certain point. It shouldn’t be that stodgy of an experience. Movies are meant to be fun.

Given all this, I thought it would be a fun exercise to put down what I think are the rules of seeing a movie in a polite society. In no particular order…

1. If you are worried about something you are doing, follow that instinct. If you pause for a moment and wonder if you should do something, you probably shouldn’t. If something you are doing is really ok, then you probably wouldn’t think twice about it. So, if you worry that your phone screen is too bright or that you are talking too loudly, you probably are. It reminds me of a Mark Twain quote. “If you always tell the truth, you never have to remember anything.” Applied to the movie-going experience, if you are thinking about an action then it’s because you know you shouldn’t be doing it. Follow that instinct. If you are rushing to take that picture or to respond to that text, it’s because you realize you are breaking some unwritten rule.
2. Phones off, or at the very least, brightness dimmed. Theaters are dark. That’s by design. They want your eyes to be drawn to the screen. Ideally, the result is that you get lost in the movie and forget where you even are. That’s the magic of entertainment. In the same way that you respond to something happening on the screen, your eyes are immediately drawn to anything that changes in your eyeline. So, when someone pull their phone out, it’s very hard to ignore. I don’t know the science behind it. I just know that as soon as I see another screen, it gets my attention. Suddenly, paying attention to the movie screen means that I am actively picking a screen to pay attention to. So, instead of watching the movie because it’s the only option, I’m trying to watch the movie. To be hokey about it, it kills the magic. The person who decided to pull out their phone has decided that whatever is on the phone is more important to them. And, they’ve made that decision for anyone else who notices. It’s really not as simple as “well, just ignore it”. That’s not how eyesight works. People choose to see movies in a theater specifically to avoid those kinds of distractions.
   And you really can find ways to use your phone that won’t distract other people. Sit in the back row. Cover the screen in strategic ways. I guaranteed that hundreds of people have checked their phones during movies that’s I’ve never noticed. By definition, I’m not complaining about them, because I didn’t even notice them using their phones.
   
   --OK. I know I said I didn’t want to harp on the specific Twitter argument that prompted this, but I do think it’s an illustrative example. So, the initial poster’s core argument was that they liked to snap a picture of the title cards of movies with the brightness turned all the way down. Honestly, I don’t care if someone does that. That tends to be early enough that it doesn’t really hurt the experience. The angry responses to this are of the slippery slope variety though. Most purists adopt a hard-line rule on this, because any give opens everything up. If I say taking a picture of the title card with your dimness turned down it ok, then how is that so different for taking the picture with the brightness turned on? Or, while one person determines that the title card is fine, maybe another person thinks 5 minutes in or 10 minutes in or during the climax is fine. Everyone has different rules, and it’s pompous to assume that other people share your specific threshold. So, in a polite society, the move is it adopt the strictest policy. It’s why hecklers aren’t tolerated at comedy shows. It’s why people don’t talk during stage shows. It’s why you can’t bring your own drums to a concert. Yes, these are going to extreme examples, but if you are chafing at this, you’re telling on yourself. 
   The argument of the person in favor of using the phone in the Twitter argument was that taking the picture of the title card was their way of documenting something special. As someone who has collected 20+ years of movie stubs to a neurotic degree, I get that. To this, I say this. You have determined that title card is the special moment to you. You remember things best with pictures. How about the person that gets that same special moment from actually watching the title card? Now, isn’t their memory instead of the title card coming up and being distracted by the screen? What if when you were trying to take the picture, someone in front of you had the tradition of standing up and cheering during the title card? That moment is just as special to them and now they’ve ruined your picture, which is your special moment. I don’t want to keep saying slippery slope but…slippery slope.
3. Phone sound off and don’t take calls. It’s insane that I’d need to explain this. Only assholes still fight this one. We can all hear you and your phone. If you need to take a call, you are allowed to get up and take a call outside the theater. This is why the people arguing about rule #2 are so odd to me, because it’s the same thing. Light travels and sound travels. Sure, the movie is louder, but that doesn’t always drown out your chatting. A phone screen is not different.
4. Know your audience. This is where I give some to the laze faire types in a theater. Some audiences are just more casual than others. I don’t go into a 11am Pixar movie showing and get annoyed when young children are making a lot of noise. I don’t see a raucous comedy and get annoyed when the crowd erupts with laughter. But you better believe that anyone taking a call during The Zone of Interest is getting on my shit list.
5. Keep talking to a minimum. I feel like a hypocrite on this one because for the first 23 years of my life, I was pretty bad about this. While I am writing these rules, I don’t pretend to be perfect about following them. I just want to outline what I strive toward. Objectively, it’s safe to say that no one showed up to the movie to listen to me talk. I realize this now. I didn’t appreciate it for a long time. So, if you do intend to say something, pay attention to how loud you are.
6. Bathroom breaks. These are fine. Do your best to not make a show of it. People get what’s happening. You don’t need to say “excuse me” above a light whisper.
7. Eating snacks. Again, I have no real issue with this. My only note is that this isn’t your first time eating something out of a plastic wrapper. Choose your moments wisely.
8. Showing up late. The later you are, the more content with your circumstances you should be. Yelling the name or the person you are meeting or turning the light on your phone to see is fine during trailers. If you are showing up 20 minutes into the movie, find the first empty seat you can and sit in it. It’s not like you are going to catch up with your party until after the movie anyway.

Look. The fact that I’m writing this puts me in the “stick up my ass” group. The only purpose this serves is to make the people who agree with me happy and piss off the people who disagree and wasted their time to read this. More than anything, I want this to serve as a reference whenever someone questions why I’m “trying to ruin someone else’s good time” at a theater. None of my rules are hard to follow or understand. They are reasonable, even if they are intense. And they all really come down to that first rule. If you have to think about it, that’s your evidence that you shouldn’t be doing it. No one ever questioned if them sitting in a theater quietly was a problem. There’s a reason for that. The second that you decide that something you are doing is something people shouldn’t be allowed to be annoyed by, you open the door for anyone else’s interpretation of what’s polite. I have no desire to gatekeep. I love seeing movies. I want everyone to love seeing movies as much as I do. The main thing I want everyone to think about is how would you like it if you were sitting behind or beside you in the theater. Better yet, how would you feel if everyone was breaking the same rules you were?

I'm Taking a Break (Sort Of)

What's this? A post that isn't a movie rant, a weird ranking of something overly specific, or predictions for an awards ceremony that are more thorough than accurate. Yes, this is me talking to you directly for a change.

I just want to give you a little update about what's going on. I'm taking a break for a bit. Most of what I've written lately has felt like a chore. I feel like I'm going on the same 10 rants repeatedly. Between keeping this up and a lot of the side-projects I work on, I'm getting burned out. Luckily, no one is forcing me to do any of these things. It's my own completionist compulsions driving me. That means, I can quit any time I want. 

I'm setting no timelines on this. I may be back next week. I may be back next month. I might be on a completely new site. I might remain here. I don't know. I'm figuring some things out.

In the meantime, enjoy my dump of Delayed Reactions I've been saving up. 

One thing I do want to make very clear:

I absolutely, 100% will be back.

Solo: A Box Office Rant

Check out my Reaction to the movie here if you don't care at all about box office numbers.

The cool thing to do after Solo's disappointing opening weekend is to write a think piece about it. I wasn't planning on saying much about it, because places like BoxOfficeMojo already did a fine job. I've seen other stories with a lot of doom and gloom, suggesting that Disney has tarnished the Star Wars brand. I don't subscribe to much of that. My opinion, in short, is that this was a heat check. Disney got a little cocky. That's all. They tested the limits of Star Wars' popularity and got bit.

I also think this was pretty inevitable. No matter what, the fourth of Disney's Star Wars films was likely to disappoint.

The Force Awakens: First new Star Wars movie in a decade. First movie under the Disney banner and without George Lucas. Result: Highest grossing movie of 2015.

Rogue One: First non-saga Star Wars movie. General curiosity about what that will mean. Helped by the strong reception to The Force Awakens. Also, some people probably thought it was the sequel to The Force Awakens. Result: Highest grossing movie of 2016.

The Last Jedi: The sequel to the well-received The Force Awakens. All Star Wars saga movies are even movies. Helped by the strong reception to The Force Awakens and Rogue One. Result: Highest grossing movie of 2017.

Solo: The first Star Wars release after the divisive The Last Jedi. No clear story hook. Less curiosity about what the Star Wars Stories are. Not tied to any ongoing story or established characters played by the normal actor. Result: Definitely not the highest grossing movie of 2018.

While Star Wars and Marvel are very different properties (currently), some of the same rules do apply to both. Not every Marvel movie is a massive hit. Some are just barely successful or break even. The Marvel brand means maybe $150 million guaranteed. What it makes beyond that is a result of the casting, the marketing, and the popularity of the character. Maybe the Star Wars brand is worth $200 million. Accept that and plan accordingly. There's nothing about Solo that suggests it should make more than the Star Wars minimum. Alden Ehrenreich isn't established as an actor. Donald Glover is still a niche brand at the end of the day. Musical success rarely means much for box office success. His biggest claims to fame otherwise are winning an Emmy for a moderately rated basic cable series, a supporting role in a low-rated sitcom with a cult following, and being the 13th name on the call sheet for a hit 2015 movie. His Lando may lead to bigger things, but it's not going to sell the film. The same can be said about Emilia Clarke who is still in the shadow of Game of Thrones.

The marketing of the movie didn't help matters.The poster reminds me more of The Nice Guys than a Star Wars movie and there's no clear story in any of the adds or TV spots. The main appeal is "Hey look. That character is young now". That works better for, say, Anakin Skywalker in the prequels because he goes through a dramatic change. The only question in Solo is how this sly 20-something guy turns into a sly 40-something guy. So tell me, what in here suggests more than base level Star Wars box office returns?

Disney needs to give up on Memorial Day weekend. Let's take a look back at their last few years of Memorial Day releases:

2018 - Solo: A Star Wars Story.
Budget: $250 million-ish. Opening weekend (4-day): $103 million.
2017 - Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales.
Budget - $230 million. Opening weekend (4-day): $78 million.
2016 - Alice Through the Looking Glass.
Budget: $170 million. Opening weekend (4-day): $33 million.
2015 - Tomorrowland.
Budget: $190 million. Opening weekend (4-day): $42 million.

Looking at that, Solo looks like a resounding success. And when you consider that Maleficent opening with $69 million in 2014 the weekend after Memorial Day against a $180 million budget was considered a major success, perhaps Solo breaking $100 million isn't so bad. Disney has a history of under-performing with big budget movies that weekend. Solo was expected to make a run at the $140 million Memorial Day record. It had the widest May release ever (4381 theaters). Well, Despicable Me 3 holds the record for widest release ever, so I think that's more the fault of an over-ambitious studio.

Adding to my "heat check" theory. Solo had considerable competition in the box office. The weekends before the last three Star Wars movies were released, the total weekend box office grosses were $77 million (2015), $83 million (2016), and $83 million (2017). Meanwhile, the weekend before Solo was released made $209 million. Solo had to go up against the second weekend of Deadpool 2 and the fifth weekend of Infinity War, both of which were direct competitors. Disney tried to help by pushing up the Infinity War release a week, but there's a reason why the biggest releases normally come from the beginning of the summer season or before Christmas: there's less competition.

There's a number of other things to consider too. I don't buy into this as evidence that Disney has saturated the Star Wars brand. I think one movie a year if perfectly sustainable. 5 months between releases is pushing it though. Maybe at least wait from December to July. It took Marvel almost a decade to get audiences used to three month gaps between films. And let me reiterate, Marvel and Star Wars are very different brands. The marketing got confused about what people loved about Han Solo. They don't love the character. They love Harrison Ford as the character. Han Solo isn't James Bond. Recasting is a bug, not a feature. And, don't think the turmoil with the director shakeup didn't hurt it. Rogue One actually had a similar problem, but they kept that quiet a lot better.

Finally, the international box office returns. That's where the movie took the biggest hit. Only $65 million despite being release in nearly every international market. That's bad no matter how you look at it.

...However, here's a table of the 10 largest franchises since 2000. I've included the average % the films have made domestically and internationally: 

Perhaps more reflective of the current situation is looking at the same list but only include movie from 2010 to the present (which better reflects how the box office has been post-Avatar).

The point of this is that Star Wars has always been a bigger hit proportionally in the U.S. than most other franchises. (Btw, I didn't include Solo's number's or else Star Wars would be the bottom of the list) Or, how about this. Of the top 100 grossing films since 2000, the average share from the international box office is 64.34%. Since 2010, that jumps to 66.26%. What I'm trying to say is that the numbers internationally only look so bad because the raw numbers are so massive. I don't know why Disney (and Fox before it) have had so much trouble getting international audiences to buy into Star Wars, but this isn't a problem that started with Solo.

OK. I think this is now longer than my Movie Reaction for Solo and on a topic with a much smaller audience. I'll stop now. I hope this was informative.

One Big Leap

I use the phrase One Big Leap a lot when talking about movies. Especially when discussing what didn't work. I'm getting tired of explaining it every time, so I'll explain it here.

"One Big Leap" refers to the one big leap of faith that I'll give a movie when I'm watching it. After that leap, it needs to make sense. This could also be looked at as a movie following internal logic. Given the world of the story, does everything else make sense? It's not a difficult concept and I use it as a blanket term. I think it's easier to explain with a couple examples.

The Amazing Spider-Man 2 fails pretty miserably at this. Obviously, it's one big leap to say that there's a world where heroes and villains like Spider-Man can exist. Given that, there's no reason why in the city of New York every major character happens to know each other. They need to lay more pipe for, say Gwen to just happen to date Spider-Man and know Electro personally from work.

Serendipity doesn't actually fail the test in my mind. The whole point of that movie is that Kate Beckinsale and John Cusack are fated to be reunited, so all the close calls and near misses are tied to the same big leap. If there was no talk of destiny or chance in the movie, then it would fail badly due to so many contrivances for them not to meet again until the end.

Coincidence, contrivance, and misunderstanding are all things that build up. If the movie requires a character's cell phone battery to die at the worst time, that's fine. If the movie requires two unconnected characters to lose their phones in order to setup a meet-cute (I'm looking at you, Before We Go), that's less acceptable.

Movies that rely on characters repeatedly phrasing something in a way that no human talks in order to keep a miscommunication going that the rest of the movie hinges on is bad writing. That fails.

I hope that explains what I mean. One big leap is a shorthand for saying "I don't like bad writing". This isn't an exact science either. Most movies have small gaffs. Look at something like Superbad. Trying to track Officers Michaels and Slater's timeline working together makes no sense. None of that is important to the plot, so I don't really care.

If I can remember to, I'll keep a log of any time I run into this in movies from now on.

Misanthrope's Guide to Losing a "Loved" One

People are the worst. Right? If you are a fellow misanthrope like me, it's tough to give a fuck about other people*. It's nothing personal. We just don't care. You can look at is as a negative, but we don't.

*You can probably lump narcissists in here too. In spirit, there's not much difference.

Unfortunately, most people aren't like us. They have "feelings" and "build bonds" with other people. For you "well adjusted" people some psychologists came of with this simple little list for what happens when you lose a loved one. I'm sure you've heard it: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Bashful, Grumpy, and Doc (or something like that). It's handy to bring up when you want to seem educated or pretend your Psychology minor meant anything. At the end of the day, it's probably bullshit. Regardless, it's actuate way more often than it should be. People are predictable in that way, I guess.

With that in mind, I thought about what happens for someone like me; the stages of loss that someone who is indifferent to everyone goes through, since we are as equally predictable a crowd as most people, only different. So, I came up my own list detailing the Misanthrope's 5 Stages of Dealing with a Loss. It is as follows:

Stage 1: Recollection
Look, you don't have time to remember ever cousin, uncle, parent, or friend you have. There's a lot of them out there. Too many, quite frankly. Whenever you find out that someone close to you has died, it stands to reason that the first thing you do is ask "who is that again?". If you don't do that, you won't know if you should even begin to care.

Stage 2: Checking
Not every death is sudden nor is it always a surprise to people. Sometimes, you have been told this person is sick or "not doing well". I know, I know. They expect you to remember this? What if you were thinking about something else at the time they were telling you about the person's turn for the worse (such as "Why won't this person shut up?" or "Why won't he leave me alone?")? That is why this next stage is important. This is when you ask in your head or out loud "Did we know this was coming?". The answer can radically change the reaction you choose.

Stage 3: Gauging
When you don't care who is who, it can be tough to respond to death appropriately. Since you don't actually care what makes one person different from another, there's isn't an automatic response you have prepared for hearing news like this. For myself, I felt about the same when I heard that Mother Theresa died as I did when bin Laden was killed. That's why this stage is important. This is when you ask "So, we're all sad about this, right?".

Stage 4: Diminishing
People die every day. That's science. And, a lot of the reason that we are misanthropes has to do with the fact that we don't like most people. Odds are, hearing that someone has died is the equivalent to one more name to cross off the list of people that mostly annoy us. That's why this next stage kicks in. Lest we forget that it isn't our death that's being reported [so it really doesn't matter], we must remind ourselves why this isn't such a big deal. Naturally, this leads to a very important thought: "Well, he was kind of an asshole." Good thing I remembered that. Time to go back to not caring.

Stage 5: Forgetting
"What were we just talking about?" No, I honestly forgot. Shit, everyone else around me is really sad. I know we were just talking about something but I don't remember what. I think it wasn't about me, thus it must've been about someone else. Probably some asshole. I think someone is about to cry or something. Oh no, maybe I can say I need to go to the bathroom then wait in there until they're better. God damn, what the hell were we just talking about? I think I was listening to most of it...Oh well. Must've not been important.

There you go. That's what goes through the head of a misanthrope. So, the next time you find yourself in a conversation with some curmudgeon who hates everyone  and they don't seem to care that grandma's dead, just remember, you have your grief cycle. He has his own. Even though it isn't exactly grief, it is a natural response  and it's also designed to minimize the attention paid to realizing how little he cares. It's for the best.

I hope you found this informative*.

*Not really, but I could never write a good conclusion. If I haven't made it clear what this is about by the end, then I'm not doing it write.

Rant: People With and Without Kids

There's an interesting evolution that seems to happen when someone has a kid. They stop being one of the people who hates parents who bring their obnoxious kids places and become one of them.

People with kids, I get it. They don't care. If their kid is yelling at O'Charley's, so what? This is their first meal that didn't include Mac n' Cheese or apple slices in months. Frankly, these parent can 'not care' all they want. But, don't give me shit when I scoff and say "someone should get that kid a muzzle" obviously within earshot. Part of not giving a shit that your kid bothers other people is actually not giving a shit. You can either grin and bear it or take it out on the kid later (that's up to you). The kid is the one making this an issue, not me. Besides, if you kick my ass, you have the cops at your doorstep the next day (that's a promise), but if you can smack the kid around later and threaten their Barbie if they tell anyone, while I don't approve, it's your kid. I don't care, in all honesty.
If you make the mistake of bringing the kid to a movie, then responsibility does not disappear with the lights. Get that noisy piece of shit out of the theater if they are going to talk through the Green Lantern's oath* and catch the part you miss on DVD one night after you spike the kid's ice cream with Nyquil. I don't care how you do it, but I'm not putting down 10 bucks to have the best part ruined by Mikey yelling that he's scared. Why is this kid seeing Saw with you anyway? You are a bad parent.

*Yeah, I wrote this a while ago. I'm not in the mood to update it.

Alternately, people without kids, stop being dicks. I get that you didn't sign up for kids, but I didn't sign up for hobos and still have to put up with them when I leave the house. Kids are a consequence you should expect. Example: The book store has a kid's section, so I'm sorry that you don't get to read that book in the store [that you have no intention of buying anyways] in quiet solitude.
There's also no need to scoff at the mere sight of a mom with two five year-olds and a baby walking into a coffee shop. Until one of them yells in your ear or wipes the unknown stickiness on his hand on your table, they aren't bothering you. Parents are people too, only with a small, unruly army.
You don't have to follow the golden rule here. Just maintain you righteous indignation for the second they make the first misstep. Never cede the high ground. In polite society it is your greatest weapon.

Rant About Growing a Beard

One of my favorite all-time past times is beard growing. It literally requires nothing from me. In fact, it gives me one less thing to do each day, and, in my case, within a week, every schmuck I see comments on the beard like it's some miraculous thing. There's about a two week period there where life is perfect. I get carded less. Cold winds don't seem so bad. People are even more likely to loan me their truck. It's beautiful.

And, I know, this isn't for everyone. Some people god never intended to have a beard. It grows like Cliff Clavin's wolfman beard or Joe Dirt. Other people have that forever 14 facial hair. I'm not one of them apparently. I have more hair than I know what to do with and it's pretty irritating.

As for my narrative, it all changes that first morning after the honeymoon period. I take my shower, think to myself, "should I shampoo my beard? It's getting a little big." I brush this off, but then comes those two inevitable words that mean its all over. Some witty prick comes up to me and addresses me as Grizzly Adams. I'm done then. I know I don't have the discipline to ZZ Top this thing so I have to fucking groom this thing. I don't want to groom it. The only reason I put up with this itchy patch of man-fur is because it requires nothing out of me. I might as well just shave it off if I'm going to otherwise take the time to trim it.

Sidenote: Who gave Grizzly Adams a monopoly on having a beard? Couldn't it be off season Santa or something? History is filled with great beards. Are we so stupid or lazy as a people that Grizzly Adams is the only reference we're expected to get? Most people don't even know who he is past the beard.*

* Fun fact: He's a real guy, not just from an NBC show in the 70s.

The next day, I stand there with my shaving utensils. Moment of truth. I have all this equipment for trimming because I am a man and men buy shit for beard trimming. So I start the trimming with all these covers and caps on it that give me no sense of the resulting beard length, not that I even know what beard length I'd want. And I don't know about you, but trimming when I do it is 1 part getting no hairs at all and 1 part accidentally taking out big chunks out of it, which makes me question why the fucking trimmer covers are there since they don't even work.

And, it always ends the same way. I forget to charge the damn beard trimmer, so the battery runs out. I grab a normal shaver and shave until it's all gone. Actually, it isn't that simple. The normal shaver isn't charged either, so I  spend an hour shaving and charging in chunks until it's all gone. No. It's not all gone. I missed that one hair on my chin. That's gonna bother me. Best do one more run though. Several more run-throughs later I'm certain of one thing: "Never again"!

... until 10 months later, I'm on vacation, forget to shave the whole time and decide, "It couldn't hurt."

Mood Piece: New Shit, Bad Wakeup

I made a mistake the other day. I went to the store, then got drunk that night. I'm not talking about just any trip to the store though. I bought shit: a bunch of shit. I'm talking about an "I got a gift card" kind of trip to the store. This was one of those trips brought on from the special sort of circumstances that can only exist when you are a 20-something, single man, not living at home. I had to go to the store because my shit was broke. I reached that break point where all that shit I got for my dorm years ago would no longer do. The discoloration on the sheets is so that I no longer know what color they started as. My alarm clock is held together by duct tape and will power and doesn't go off so much as it chirps this painful dying sound. The pillow is literally a piece of fabric that used to have stuffing, but despite having no holes in it, is somehow missing all its innards. And don't even get me started on those towels (shouldn't washing take care of the smell).

Yeah, it was one of those massive shopping trips, set off one morning when I put on an episode of Good Times and think about how nice their shit is and remember what the backdrop of that show is. So, I go to the store, get new everything. Being a man, I don't look for sales and compare prices in the way that, say, a woman would. First of all, Bed, Bath, and Beyond is never in consideration. No, I'm going somewhere where I can get all my shit at once, and maybe get an Icee. I pick a Target in this case. And, I look for sales. Thread count has no effect on my decision. Whatever's cheaper, I get. I raid the clearance aisle for the cheapest Dora the Explorer alarm clock I can find. Get the extra-super firm pillow (see plywood) because it's the only one on sale. It doesn't really matter. The important part is that I'm still out of the store before that guy with his girlfriend is out of the discount nic-nac section at the entrance. I make sure to wave at him as I'm getting my Icee.

So that takes care of the shopping. I go home and start setting up all this new shit I have. When all is said and done, my room looks almost livable again. I feel that sense of grown-up pride you get whenever you do something really boring that they talk about in Redbook.

Then, I go on to celebrate my adultness. I think, "You know what would go great with the rest of my half-filled Icee? (yeah, I got the extra-large because it was only a nickel more than the small and I'm still riding that smart shopping high). What would go well with it? A whole lotta vodka. I pour myself that drink. Empty the bottle because the cup has room and there's not enough in the bottle for two nights of what I determine is "light drinking", sit down, and turn on the TV. Hey, Good Times is still on. John Amos just died so they're doing an all day marathon. Dy-no-mite! Wait, that would be a fun drinking game. It's not long before that whole drink is gone. Luckily it's still only 7 so I go to bed that night, only a little buzzed, but I need that good night's sleep anyway. I barely even care how uncomfortable there 50 thread could sheets (see Sandpaper) are. I fall right asleep. Here's where the mistake comes in.

...
...
...

"Despierte, sleepyhead!" "Despierte, sleepyhead!" "Despierte, sleepyhead!"

I wake up in a panic. The room is dark, a little Mexican girl is yelling at me. And I am sleeping under wax paper. Nothing around me looks familiar. I don't know where I am, and would somebody shut that little girl up! Am I in her room? How much did I drink last night! What is happening?!

I look in every direction for any sort of digital, lit, time device. I see the alarm clock. 12:00 AM. It keeps getting louder and louder. I grab hold of the danm thing but I don't know how to work it. I still have no idea where I am or what is happening, but I know that all meaning in life is dependent on turning that god forsaken alarm off. In a fit of rage, I hurl the clock at the wall. It turns off alright, but at the expense of Dora's poor head, which flies off somewhere.

Finally, after a few more panicked seconds, it all starts coming back to me: the sheets, the clearance aisle. Jimmy Walker! I have made myself a stranger in my own room, and drank myself into forgetting about it.

Now I regroup. What time is it? It is really midnight. I never set the alarm. I get up. Swear off drinking for life. Pop open a beer. Change that oath to laying off the hard stuff. Pick up the alarm clock and the head. Grab some duct tape. And pray to God I get married before I ever have to buy myself new stuff again.

Rant: Drinking from a Friend’s Cup

My life is filled with anxiety (ex. I was worried if I spelled that correctly so I had to look it up before continuing even though I was certain it was correct) (By the way, nailed it). One situation where this comes into play full-force  (as well as touching on my selective germaphobia, universal guilt and embarrassment, and simultaneous fear of being ignored and noticed by others) is a story as old as time.

I find myself sharing a meal with friends. It is a casual affair, the type where seats aren’t marked beforehand. I’m imagining a location in a booth, but a bar or middle table at TGIFridays would do as well. It’s a large group. Jimmy just got a promotion or Sally is celebrating her birthday. We are celebrating a friend people actually choose to see. Not Fred, who I don’t have any issue with. In fact, he can actually be fun, but I don’t know if he fits into the dynamics of the group. No one likes him enough to throw something for him, so he has to set it up for himself and that level of desperation is a big deterrent for my being in attendance (Yes, I’m Fred most of the time).

So, everyone is gathered to celebrate Brad’s corporate takeover of Old Pete’s Good Tyme Vacums and Printers, laughing and having a good time. I am in between conversations, having lost interest in the story about Margaret’s cat chasing the mailman to your left and looking for an in to the discussion to the right about Olympic events that would be ruined if the show Heroes was real. I grab a drink since the refill-lady just came by, while I formulate an opinion on the possibility that Michael Phelps is some sort of mutant already, but – what the hell?

I didn’t get Dr. Pepper.

I take a quick examination of my surroundings, and that’s when the anxiety kicks in: I grabbed the wrong cup.

Now, normal, well-adjusted people would think/say “oops” and grab their own cup and jump in to postulate that no character would be able to rig Curling. If you are thinking that, then you obviously don’t know me.
At this moment, my survival instincts kick in, and by that I mean my instincts. There is no room for survival in my Doug Funnie-esque brain, only panic. So, I survey my surroundings. There are two things I am looking for: a pair of knowing eyes that saw what I did, zeroed in on me and the phantom grab by the guy sitting next to me for his 23 flavor drink.

Let's run through the circumstances:

-Knowing eyes, no phantom grab: I find the most decorated location in the restaurant. The more decorated, the better, because the best option I have is to distract the knowing eyes. “Hey, what does that sign say?” or “Does that fake shark have a fedora?” (Available for any TGIFridays or any other chachki-based establishment) usually works for me. Once their attention is diverted, rid yourself of that cup ASAP.  

-Phantom grab, no knowing eyes: I keep hold of the cup till the person realizes I have it and start examining the cup like it's a foreign substance. Maybe even sniff it like that would determine anything. "What are you drinking?" I ask.  Hopefully I'm not drinking the same thing. I could lose face then (because sniffing the drink isn't weird at all).

-Knowing eyes, phantom grab: That's when I own up to it. Call attention to it and say "Anyone else's drink taste weird? I don't think mine has enough syrup." Take another sip out of the friend's drink, but don't user the straw this time. "Yeah, I only taste 16 flavors of this. Something is definitely wrong with the machine."

-No knowing eyes, no phantom grab: (aka "the dream scenario") I put the drink down as I should've done to begin with. No one cares either way.

I wish I could say this is not actually the way I think, but it is. Even at the time I know it's crazy. No one at the celebration of Nancy's canoeing to the Maldives will remember it by the end of the night even if everyone sees me drink from the other person's cup, but it's not about other people for the same reason I get stage fright when I am practicing a speech alone. That's why I am still embarrassed I drank from the wrong cup at Wicks months back, even though no one noticed...

Rant: Passing Cops

I'm Catholic*, so I naturally feel guilty about everything always. One of my least favorite things, as a result, is passing a cop on the street. I'm guilty of something and he knows it, right? Generally this is a brief encounter, like the Doppler effect, it builds exponentially, very quickly and very strong, then fades to nothing immediately. My delicate psyche can handle this in doses. Humans adapt.

*by birth.

Then comes the day when I'm walking to class just as the Police Academy (yeah, those are real) lets out. Seeing it coming, a wave of cops let out of the building now heading my way, I prepare for a massive doppler, only I fail to realize that I am on a narrow sidewalk. Bottle-necking happens and now I have to pass by 50 cops, single file.

First cop passes.
Look innocent, Alex.
But, I am innocent. Good job.

More cops. Keep looking innocent, like you aren't guilty of anything.
But I am guilty of nothing. I'm walking to class. It's 9 in the morning.
More. Good. Look like you aren't carrying anything illegal. That should be easy.
I'm not. Exactly. One looks at me.
Shit. I look too innocent, like I'm trying to look innocent. Like I'm hiding something.
Oh god. Another one looked at me. Walk faster.
Why are you doing that?
It only calls more attention to yourself.
What! They were already noticing me.
Even more pass.
Oh god! All of them see me. They know I'm up to no good.
Shit, cross the street now.
But there's cars. That's jaywalking.
Lesser of two evils. I'd rather go down for jaywalking than something else.
What else? You've done nothing wrong.
So naive. They could stop me for suspicious behavior. Then they will learn all my secrets.
Well, walking in the middle of traffic is pretty suspicious. Hold out a little longer.
Poker games, internet downloads, that night I chugged a beer before driving hone. It's all come crashing down. They know. They know it all. Every minor and major infraction and misdeed I've ever done in my life. I'm going do, for the long haul.
I hope they don't use guns. Maybe they'll just tase me, or force me to the ground. Should I resist? That will only make it harder.
But I'm innocent dammit. Innocent!!!
Huh, what's that? They've all passed. No one stopped me? Good. I got away this time.
Boy does it feel great to be innocent.

...
...
...
Hey. Who's that ahead. It's a professor.
Oh no. He knows I cheated.
But I didn't cheat.
Good. Keep repeating that...

Rant: Funeral Processions

Funeral processions are a funny thing. And that's ignoring the rest of the funeral customs because it's all pretty crazy for the uninitiated. So, you have a dead body that you need to move from point A to point B, and everyone needs to come along. The odd part is, they get priority on the road. Why? Their condition isn't changing. Meanwhile, I miss my turn because Grandpa's death crew gets to drive down the median at 15 mph. What's the point in giving the procession priority on the road if it's only moving 10 mph BELOW the speed limit? One time I was going down the road and a funeral procession actually caused traffic to get backed up. I was pissed and cursing to myself until I saw what was causing it. There's really not a way to not feel like an ass after that. When I think about it though it's probably for the best funeral processions get rule of the road. I can't imagine many things worse than being stuck driving a hearse in bumper to bumper traffic in the middle of July. Oh, and if the A.C. is broken. I imagine embalming can only take away so much of the problem when put in an oven. I don't know what cooked human smells like.

You know, it's never good to lose a family member or loved one, but it's kind of fun when you make the cut to get one of those "Funeral" flags for the drive. It makes me feel special. Alternately, I always feel bad for the cut off car, the first one in the procession without one of the flags. I like to pretend it's the car of a mistress who the family refuses to recognize.

I thought about keeping one of those flags. It'd be great for when traffic sucks. I put that in the window, look sad, and start playing the intro music for The Undertaker. A flawless plan.
Another car I like to find in the procession is the person rocking out in his car. There's always a great-niece or someone who came directly from working the morning shift at McDonald's with a car that is more rust than metal, listening to hip-hop, proving that the only thing that works well in the car is the sub woofer. And this car is sandwiched between a car full of AARP members and one with people pissed to use a day off for this. For this reason, I have my funeral mix ready: It's mostly just Lord of the Rings soundtracks, a few versions of "Cat's in the Cradle", and Bobby McFerrin's timeless hit "Don't Worry, Be Happy" because, even in my grief I can appreciate irony. Otherwise, the terrorists have won.

Speaking of bad things happening. If the hearse gets in a wreck, how do you figure the body count?

All I know is that I judge people based on the length of their procession. Example: Hobo, none. Michael Jackson, Staples Center. Ok, not the best example but my point stands. That's why I have been making efforts to pad my numbers. Like any good Catholic, I refuse to wear a condom. I never donate money unless the beneficiaries know exactly who it came from. Lastly, I have been building up an extensive network of enemies. It's going to be a packed house just from people who want to make sure I'm dead.

Final tip: Make sure to drive a nice car in the funeral procession, because someone will be offended if you have to say your car died on the way to the funeral.

Mini-Rant: Cheating Through School

There are certain professions I actively want the person to have cheated their way through school for. My favorite example is a lawyer. Granted, I don't have the highest opinion of, well, laws...or government, but I don't want the lawyer who played by the rules. I want the guy who found every way he could to not go through the work. This guy, not Mr. Top of His Class, will be the one to find a way to turn my DUI into loitering in a moving vehicle while medicated. Besides, do you trust anyone who stays in school that long? I don't. That's why I never had teachers who liked me. They understood my disdain immediately.

Do doctors even need that much training? Call me a realist, but if I start seizing on a plane, I assume I'm a goner. Does every doctor from a pediatrician to a proctologist needs to know what to do? Besides, if the doctor around me when I need it is too good, I'm afraid  he won't help me because it could hurt his numbers.

I know their dirty little secret anyway: the nurses DO everything. Doctors just sign it off. And, nurses didn't go through as much school. Also, no, I don't feel bad that the nurses get all the shit work. If you are smart enough to get through nursing school then you are smart enough to know doctors will shit on you. You made your bed, now lay on it.

Rant: Buses

I don’t ride the bus much since I left school. I think this is for the best. You see, I lack a skill-set needed for the bus.

First of all, I am paranoid about being late. Not only do I plan to get on the bus that gets me where I need an hour before I need to be there, but I end up showing up at the bus stop a few minutes after the bus made its previous stop. In essence, I stand around doing nothing for an hour and half with nothing to do, for fear of being five minutes late somewhere.

Secondly, once I’m on the bus, I don’t know what I am doing wrong, but I don’t know how to stand right. I will grab whatever pole or armrest I can find, planting my feet like tree trunks and as soon as the driver accelerates I’m flailing around like I’m Tarzan swinging from trees. Meanwhile, the girl standing next to me, not even paying attention leans lightly on a pole and is still as a statue.

Also, I make the mistake of looking at the advertisements. For every advertisement for an off-brand local fast-food place like “Prince Burgers” or “Taco Hut”, there’s an ad like “Depressed? Call us at (555)HAP-YNES And just remember, you matter. A noose is not a fetter, it’s a guillotine” or “Think you might have an STD? Call (555)YOU-AIDS. It's Confidential.” That just makes me even more conscious and worry what I’m going to catch something from that guy wiping his nose next to me…who just touched the pole I need to hold to stay standing.

Now, I’m not trying to say that I’m too good for the bus. I just think I am, and thank god, I’m in a city where it’s not that viable of an option. Because, I’m sorry, but every time I see somebody over 18 waiting for a bus, I immediately wonder what went wrong in their life. If they are holding cups, I’d probably consider giving them change, but of course, at the last second I would reconsider this. They are waiting for the bus. They already have change.