Big Usher Is Watching

The boys and I went to see Night At The Museum 2, or whatever its official title is. We got there about 50 minutes before showtime, so I sat in the car while #1 listened to his music and The Pony read a book. The parking lot held a smattering of cars. I figured they were all that showed up for the 1:00 movies. With about 40 minutes to go, The Pony said, "Uh, Mom? I think we should go in." I told him there were three other movies, and the people we saw drive up might be going to one of them. I didn't know the start times. He insisted. We got in line. Wouldn't you know it? The Pony was right. Those people were there to see Night At The Museum.

We went right in, never mind that the side our movie was in was blocked off. There are ways around that, you know. So did the other people. We barely got there in time to grab out preferred seats in the next to last row on the right side. The last row has only two seats. The Pony and I sit there when we go alone. The man who bought tickets in front of us sat there. The place started filling up. We were in the biggest theater. In came my Principal's family. They could only find space in the front row on our side. He came in a few minutes later, and I waved him down the aisle.

The screen came on with the movie quiz thingy. Then it had some behind the scenes stuff, and a DVD preview for Paul Blart, Mall Cop. Except there was no sound. I said to #1, "You saw this movie, didn't you? What are they saying?" He didn't remember. We couldn't even hear what the Fandango sack-heads were saying. That really irritated me. There might as well have been apes running the place. The sound from one of the other movies was blaring all the way into our theater. The guy across from me yelled, "Turn that TV down!" That got a laugh. An older guy sent his son out to tell them we had no sound. I saw them in the hall. The usher said, "Oh, right. I forgot about the sound." Like he was in charge of sound and not sweeping up and telling teens to get their feet off the chairs. Oh, but that's not the worst of the Hillmomba movie experience. When the actual previews started, the picture had a big black line through the middle, like old TVs used to get so you had to get up and adjust the 'vertical' knob. Then it quit altogether, after a corner of it turned black and it locked up. They restarted it twice.

Now the people were pouring in. It was 4:00, the movie start time. These scoffrules stood clogging the door, saying, "I don't see anyplace with five seats together. We need five seats together." Well, too goshdarn bad," says Mrs. Hillbilly Mom inside her own head, and none too politely. "Get here early like everyone else. This theater is not your oyster." One twenty-something stood for ten minutes with her posse of two, then said, "I'm going to get an usher." I was afraid they were going to try and take our seats. The #1 son was out getting refills, so it looked like we had two empty seats in our row of four.

I was ready for those wimpy ushers, who were down on the other side near the front in their quest for the elusive vacant seats. Last time this happened, they asked us to move down, and we did. Which I was not happy about at all, because I like an aisle seat, and I had wasted 40 minutes of waiting time to be cheated out of it. I was ready, by cracky, for that request. "No. That person who came in late can crawl over me and sit between my sons if she so desires. But we came early and chose these seats, and I do not plan to move for her convenience. We paid the same amount for our tickets, and we were here first." Wouldn't you know it? They didn't even ask us this time. That's what I get for preparing a speech.

Oh, and now the message at the beginning of the movie threatens us. It used to be just about turning off your cell phones and not talking. Now it adds that we should not kick the seats, and that the staff IS always around and WILL take action.

Hillmomba has become a Nanny State.