Dateline Boston – Husband and I took my stepson to the movies for his 16th birthday two weeks ago. It was gonna be great. We had seen previews for the latest M. Night Shyamalan horror flick, and what better way to bond with a teen than a scary thriller about a visit to Grandma and Grandpa’s?
We were smart. Husband ordered tickets online so we wouldn’t have to stand in line with the throngs of people who were sure to want to see this flick. I was surprised when we got there. The seats were deluxe! They were all leather recliners. Husband and SS told me that we had assigned seats. We would be sitting in the very last row at the top. Wow, what a view! It was great.
A few rows in front of us, several people got into a little skirmish about their seats. Apparently, not everyone knew the theatre was assigned seating. They just sat wherever. When the people who were actually assigned those seats showed up, they expected to sit there. Words were spoken, and one person went to get a theatre employee. Everyone got an education about how the seats were assigned at this theatre.
I wanted to make sure that we had the correct seats. I asked Husband for the number, and he told me. “Seats 13, 14, and 15…in Row A.” I looked at the letter of the row we were in. M. Huh. I remarked that it looked like Row A was all the way at the front of the theatre. Husband got a look on his face I have rarely seen, somewhere between anger and disgust. He went down to get our tickets changed, and came back fuming. Turned out that the movie was sold out, and we had to sit in the front row, which were our assigned seats. He ranted about the map on the movie theatre’s website as we made our way down several steps.
We passed a group of young children who must have been 10 years old, sitting with a dad. I was horrified that they would be watching a PG-13 rated movie at 8 o’clock at night. The dad did not seem concerned.
This Is Desirable?
When we got to the front and sat down, SS and I laughed out loud. Imagine the front row of any theatre you’ve been to. Now imagine a theatre sticking a row in front of that row. We were in the front of the front. We had to recline the seats as far back as we could to even pretend we were going to be able to see images on the screen. Husband’s face was contorted into expressions that were cartoonlike, not in a funny way. I realized I couldn’t properly eat my popcorn without feeling like I was going to choke. I felt like I was at the dentist’s office. Where was my bib and spit sink?
The movie came on, and the premise was the worst one could imagine for the seats we had. The protagonists were young teenagers who were making a movie. There were several scenes that had shaky camera angles, because the girl who was holding the camera was running. Watching that from the front of the screen, almost under it, made one nauseous. SS and I laughed again at the ridiculousness. Husband did not. I tried to ignore the kids seated to my right, who must have been frightened out of their minds.
We got through it with a good story to tell. SS and I waited while Husband went back to the Help Desk and complained again about our experience. Let me say right now that my husband is not one to complain, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him rage. He just usually walks away. This time, he wanted to say his piece. He got us three passes to a future movie.
This weekend, SS wants to use the passes to see the new movie about Whitey Bulger. I’ll look at the movie map with Husband and choose a row between A and M. Maybe we’ll go with G.
Ms. Vaillancourt may be contacted at snobbyblog@gmail.com
