Dear sweet, sweet girls in theater 12,

Let’s get together real soon and plan a way (perhaps an online calendar of some sort) that will ensure, for all time, hence forth, that you both and I will never, and I mean ever, be in the same theater seeing the same movie at the same time again. Ever.

You, my nubile adolescent estrogen packages, are what my mom used to call ‘publicly inappropriate.’ “Don’t be publicly inappropriate like those girls over there.” my mom would whisper loudly to me. “See how everyone is looking at them? That man actually rolled his eyes! Those girls think they are being cute but actually, everyone wishes they would leave.” And she was right. I really, REALLY wished you would leave.

When you first came into theater 12 I knew I was in trouble. You were both laughing loudly and pushing each other. I prayed and wished really hard that you would please, please, please not sit by me. I breathed a sigh of relief, as did the couple behind me, when you moved up near the top row. Oh yes, I knew right where you were. I didn’t need to turn around. I could hear you loud and clear. The burping, grandstand-loud laughing and stomping of little size 6 feet traveled down to me.

When you got up and moved 8 seats to the right and down one row, I was still happy. Only 5 minutes into the movie. I hadn’t missed much. And you were finally settled. Foolish me. Because then it was all the way down the stairs to the first row. And then you just had to be two rows behind me to the left. All the while, your peals of laughter at 120 decibels and the shoving was just oh, so cute. And when you finally sat directly in front of me and pulled out your light-in-the-dark cell phones and began texting each other I thought, “Don’t worry. They won’t be staying long.” But you did.

10 minutes later I moved a few seats down the row to my left, hoping to salvage the spirit of the movie and still be able to sink myself into the blissfulness of movieland. And then it happened. You actually got up and moved in front of me again. How does that happen? How does that even happen? I realize that a couple sat down next to you and their personal space obviously touched your personal space which automatically bounced you from your seats and down the row but why not just keep bouncing? Like, to theater 11?

Anyhoo, I know it’s a free country and all. And I’m not trying to take away from the 14-year-old-ishness time of your life or anything. I just don’t want to be in the same theater with you ever again. Really. Nothin’ bad.

So be looking for the email with the calendar link. I’ll keep it updated and everything. I’ll even buy your popcorn. It’s worth it.

Sincerely,
lp

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