The people behind me at the movies

A little background before I get to my letter, since more than just this guy will be reading it.  I took three of my sons, two of their friends and my wife to see the new Ghost Rider movie this past Saturday night.  It was my 12 year old’s birthday and he wanted to go see it.  I’m an accommodating sort of Dad, so we went to see it.  Tickets for 5 kids and 2 adults came to just shy of $70.  Dinner prior to the movie was another $50 at the pizza buffet place they wanted to go to.  We opted for the 7:30 showing.

Knowing the movie was just released the day before, we all knew it would be crowded, and when you add Saturday night into the equation, it gets even more hectic.  We arrived at the theater and found our seats about 20 minutes early to insure we could all sit together.  Now, on to the letter:

Dear Jackass With The Loud Mouth,

I really wanted to write and thank you for being there Saturday night, directly behind me and my family for the screening of Ghost Rider.  We thought we were going to have to figure out what you thought was funny, or intense or exciting all on our own, or at the least, we would have to turn around and ask you occasionally throughout the show.  Knowing how aggravating that might be for you, to be constantly interrupted during the movie, I was thinking that maybe I’d just sit there quietly, taking notes and try to get you alone afterwards to get your thoughts at that point.  It wouldn’t be as good as a running commentary, certainly, but I’m not really so forward when meeting someone for the first time.  Thankfully, you were a step ahead of us, and more often than not you felt our need to know what you were thinking before we even thought to wonder.

Your extremely loud conversation with the 12 people you arrived with was a pleasant departure from my normal movie going experience.  Knowing exactly when you thought something was “Holy shit, that was funny!”, or when a particular scene made you feel “dang dat boy got his ass beat” really added something special to the overall show.  I am actually thankful that you felt the need to have long conversations, LOUD long conversations, about the 30 second action scene that just finished up with your friends and by extension, me.  I really didn’t need to hear the dialogue that the actors on screen were reciting anyhow.

I had never noticed it until this night what I was truly missing by being able to hear the entire movie, start to finish, without a barely educated, extremely loud sack of chicken shit telling the theater what he thought all throughout the viewing.  You truly bring a special something to the table.  When you would relate the on screen action to a movie you saw on television at 3am the night before, I was enthralled.  Not once had I ever thought to make the comparison of the movie I’m watching to another movie I had already seen.  And as luck would have it, I didn’t see the movie you were referring to and I was enthralled by your play-by-play of the action sequence, plot recaps and overall feeling that this was, in fact, “A BAD ASS MOVIE”.  It was as if I got two movies for the price of one, because you sure do paint a picture with words.  ”Dat right dere, dat’s just like dat movie wit day boy…damn, whatshisname…Wanda, what was dat boy’s name in dat movie the otha night?  No, not him dat boy wit da thing on his face.  No, dat’s dat otha boy.  Damn woman.  Dat boy!  You know!”  Ahhh, it was wonderful.

I have to admit, I thought you were just going to chat throughout the previews for upcoming movies, and that I would have to sit and pay attention to the movie I shelled out $70 for without the benefit of your every goddamned thought, every second of the film.  It was refreshing in the way that falling in a port-a-potty head first would be refreshing.

I can only hope that one day we become friends, and I can attend your funeral far in the future and share with your family and friends the story about how we first met.  I will extend to your family and their grieving, the exact same courtesies you extended to us at the movies.  As loved ones stand to share their memories and their grief, I will be more than happy to interrupt by telling my companion that “This funeral is alright, I really liked the part where his family came in crying.  It reminded me of a ‘very special episode’ of Growing Pains when Mike Seaver decided to euthanize his mother’s aunt after she suffered a stubbed toe.”

I will be glad to rate each mourner’s performance on a sliding scale, and I will absolutely let the crowd know when to laugh by sharing my laughter and “OH SHIT THAT WAS FUNNY AS SHIT DOG!!!!” often throughout the ceremony.

So again, thank you for being there Saturday.  I know you really went out of your way to enhance my experience.

Gutmeister