I walked up to the usher and flashed a ticket stub I'd found on the ground outside the theater.
“You want back in?” He asked.
“I just had a smoke,” Then I coughed, for effect. I figured they were really only looking for nervous teenagers and as long as I feigned confidence he'd never suspect me. I’ve been faking confidence for 20yrs now so this was an easy role. It worked.
Speaking of great acting, I stumbled into Doubt w/ Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman. As the film started a baby in the next row starts crying. Holy Shit. You bring your 5-month-old kid to see a film about Catholic priests raping boys? You suck at life and I want to punch you. Do you also hire Michael Jackson to baby-sit?
Luckily th
e mom picked up the child and left. Not 5 mins later and this dickhole’s cell phone goes off to the tune of “The Macarena”. Now I haven’t heard “The Macarena” in like 7 yrs but it’s just as annoying now as in it’s heyday. Before I could even get out a, “Hey dickhole”, “DICKHOLE!” or even a “Stupid dickhole” 3 other people were already scolding this poor guy. He certainly deserved it, the dickhole.
Next there was this crying baby who was concomitantly talking on hi
s iPhone, but I won’t get into that. Overall Doubt is a very good film. I can see how it might piss off Catholics, though. But hey, you don’t hear about Rabbis playing “Hide the Salami” w/ their Hebrew School class. It would have to be Kosher Salami, too.
The performances from Hoffman and Streep were amazing. This was no surprise. What was surprising were the strong supporting roles played by Amy Adams and Viola Davis. Doubt has a cool ending and certainly challenges its audience.
As the 2nd act ended an usher, complete w/ his $5 uniform and mini-flashlight, approached me. I thought, “Well, it was good while it lasted,” and reached for my wallet.
“Sir, you can’t eat those here,” and he pointed toward my bag of dried fruit.
“I’m…” and I immediately thought I'd say I was diabetic but figured he’d ask to see an insulin syringe or something so what came out was: “I have hereditary beta-galactosidase deficiency and I get hypoglycemic.”
“What?” the puzzled kid asked me.
“Beta-galactosidase deficiency. Look, I can go buy some Sour Patch Kids or something...”
“You want back in?” He asked.
“I just had a smoke,” Then I coughed, for effect. I figured they were really only looking for nervous teenagers and as long as I feigned confidence he'd never suspect me. I’ve been faking confidence for 20yrs now so this was an easy role. It worked.
Speaking of great acting, I stumbled into Doubt w/ Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman. As the film started a baby in the next row starts crying. Holy Shit. You bring your 5-month-old kid to see a film about Catholic priests raping boys? You suck at life and I want to punch you. Do you also hire Michael Jackson to baby-sit?
Luckily th
e mom picked up the child and left. Not 5 mins later and this dickhole’s cell phone goes off to the tune of “The Macarena”. Now I haven’t heard “The Macarena” in like 7 yrs but it’s just as annoying now as in it’s heyday. Before I could even get out a, “Hey dickhole”, “DICKHOLE!” or even a “Stupid dickhole” 3 other people were already scolding this poor guy. He certainly deserved it, the dickhole.Next there was this crying baby who was concomitantly talking on hi
s iPhone, but I won’t get into that. Overall Doubt is a very good film. I can see how it might piss off Catholics, though. But hey, you don’t hear about Rabbis playing “Hide the Salami” w/ their Hebrew School class. It would have to be Kosher Salami, too.The performances from Hoffman and Streep were amazing. This was no surprise. What was surprising were the strong supporting roles played by Amy Adams and Viola Davis. Doubt has a cool ending and certainly challenges its audience.
As the 2nd act ended an usher, complete w/ his $5 uniform and mini-flashlight, approached me. I thought, “Well, it was good while it lasted,” and reached for my wallet.
“Sir, you can’t eat those here,” and he pointed toward my bag of dried fruit.
“I’m…” and I immediately thought I'd say I was diabetic but figured he’d ask to see an insulin syringe or something so what came out was: “I have hereditary beta-galactosidase deficiency and I get hypoglycemic.”
“What?” the puzzled kid asked me.
“Beta-galactosidase deficiency. Look, I can go buy some Sour Patch Kids or something...”
“No, it’s cool.” Was his response. Faking confidence is impt. There can be no doubt.
No comments:
Post a Comment