Now, I really wanted to see Children of Men, but that'd have to wait for another night. Tonight, we were going to see Dreamgirls. I just want to get that out in the open because, I'll be honest, Dreamgirls just really isn't my thing. But I'm a good sport.
We show up to a surprisingly empty theater. I mean, it wasn't empty, but it was a far cry from full. Just a smattering of people--if I may please use the word. We position ourselves on the second row, just right behind the handicap spot so I can drape my legs over the railing. I won't be comfortable, but I'll be comfortabler. The previews begin. Some lame ass Diane Keaton movie (wondering at this point how far away I am from the target market), another lame Beatles-sorta movie called Across the Universe and then a warning for a preview comes up saying that the next previewed movie features explicit language, drug use and, get this, strong killings. Now, I'm fairly sure they don't mean "strong" as in a "strong performance by the pitcher." I don't know, maybe it did mean that like "that was a really strong killing." I doubt it. It's just worth mentioning because I never read those little warnings and I found the description to be a bit peculiar. Oh yeah, it was for Zodiac, which looked quite good.
So, in the middle of the previews, the audio is shut off, dim lights illuminate the theater and five people walk in the theater across the very front and stand in the middle facing upwards toward the smattering. A very polite looking Asian fella stepped forward and gave the smattering a nice welcome message (oddly in a very strong Texas accent--it was just bizarre). Immediately, the crowd became nervously shifty and accusatory. It seemed that there were some patrons upset at the fact that it took Dreamgirls so long to reach our theaters despite putting up some impressive box offices. A woman behind us started it by barking, "It's about time!" to which my lovely wife and everyone else in the theater collectively roared, "Yeah!"
I slouch in my chair. My lovely wife was just being cute, but everyone else was obviously pissed off. The manager grinned and began to sway from side to side with tension. "What took so long?" someone else yelled. I slouch lower in my seat--just wanting to disappear, really.
All the sudden, the manager goes on the defensive. "This week, I received 72 phone calls about why we weren't carrying this movie and there's only about 62 in here." There was really only 32. He continues despite hisses and growls in the theater, "We have to make money. If you're gonna call to make this happen, you have to show up. And if you want to bring this kind of movie, you'll need to tell your friends to come see it as well."
The theater draws quiet. Then, like a boom from the back of the theather:
"What do you mean 'this kind of movie'?!"
At this point, I give the angry patron the procautious half-look where you don't swing around completely in your chair, but rather just turn a cheek to ensure this dude ain't about to bumrush the manager. I'm thinking, "Crap, I'm just here to see the movie." The manager continues to smile like an idiot, knowing that probably wasn't the best thing to say. I'm sure he meant well, but it wasn't received so well. I mean, hell, the manager was just there to introduce a few radio personalities (who were now speechless...for once). The radio personalities (reluctant to call them DJs) threw a few logo shirts into the seats, waved frightenly and bid farewell with a shuffle toward the exit. It was kinda embarassing. I thought I was gonna witness something go down in there.
The movie, itself, was pretty good. Eddie Murphy was awesome and Jennifer Hudson killed it. In fact, she killed it strongly. Even at the end of the movie, I was thinking, "Nope, still not my kind of movie," but it was entertaining nonetheless. Made me want to listen to some Ray Charles.
So here I am, on a Friday night with a fresh sheet of snow on the ground, I'm sitting at my desk writing to my not-so-faithful readers, listening to Ray Charles and watching To Catch a Predator and Chris Hansen just asked a guy for a hug. That's weird.
Rory's last day was today. Certainly sad to see him go, but the boys can't stay together forever. He's a stud and he'll do fine. We're doing drinks tomorrow night at Manham's. Should be a good time. I'll stay away from the drunken teary-eyed toasts. Improvisation is what gets me everytime. Ask BroBro. Ask Danny.
Love your neighbor. Be sensitive, but not overly sensitive. Believe in the goodness of people. Be careful on icy roads. Go Tech. Beat Kansas. Go listen to some X-Clan. Chin up, chest out and fists clinched.