a moment of pride
This afternoon, Brad and I decided on a whim to go see a matinee showing of “The Grey”. Great movie, great way to kill a few hours on a Saturday… that is, until almost exactly halfway through the film — right at this super-serious, super-quiet, dialogue-driven part where the guys are sitting around a campfire and discussing their various reasons to live — when the entire theater is suddenly filled with the chorus of “Crazy Train”.
Because lo, some dude in the back has forgotten to turn off his cell phone.
Needless to say, people started tsk-tsking and throwing shade — I mean, not silencing your cell during a movie is bad enough, but if your ringtone is “Crazy Train”, you really have an extra moral obligation to turn that shit off — but it gets worse: Cell Phone Guy isn’t having it. Not only does he subject us all to a fourth tinny round of “Going off of the rails on a crazy tray-ain!” while he fumbles around with the phone, he then puts it to his ear, answers it, and starts having a conversation at normal volume level.
“Hey man, what’s up.”
“Oh, really?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him around today, but what are you doing later?”
…During which time he is completely drowning out what might have been a very important monologue by Liam Neeson explaining just where he learned his astonishing wolf-punching skills, and which continues through multiple hisses of “Shhhh!”, and one person turning around and saying, “Seriously?”.
At which point it becomes clear that a) this guy is an paralleled specimen of douchebaggery, and b) nobody in the incredibly conflict-averse audience cares enough about Liam Neeson’s exposition to do what needs to be done.
At which point, fueled by a surge of righteous rage — because I don’t care who you are, when Liam Neeson is talking, you are shutting the fuck up — I draw myself up to my full five-feet-and-three-inches of height and yell, “HEY! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!”
And he does.
I WIN!
