Recently I wrote about “day dating” and mentioned that one of the perks is going to movies in the mornings or afternoons.
For the most part, you’ll either have the theater to yourselves or be among just a smattering of people who want plenty of elbow room.
However, our last trip to the local Cineplex made me think that perhaps my days of watching movies on the big screen could be coming to a close.
Yep, I had no idea this was a thing (and it wasn’t a thing when we saw “Avengers: Endgame” in April or “Rocketman” last month), but it is now.
We headed to the 9:30 a.m. showing of “Spider-Man: Far From Home,” paid our money, and then were asked to choose our seats.
The ticket-seller pointed to a seating chart that was attached to the glass partition by the transaction window.
“The open seats are in blue,” she said. “Just select whichever two you like.”
Even though I’m eligible for a discount at Denny’s and continually get mail from those killjoys at AARP who want me to feel old, I like to think of myself as young at heart and technologically savvy.
So I decided to press seats 1 and 2 on row O, which is the last row of the theater.
We like the last row because you’re up high and can plop your head back on the wall. You can also see the rest of the movie goers, so it’s easier to mock them.
Anyway, I kept pressing and nothing happened and was finally informed that it was merely a sheet of paper taped to the glass. Me pressing did nothing but provide some pretty prominent fingerprints.
This might’ve embarrassed someone else, but not me. I just told her I was kidding … I knew it was merely paper taped to glass.*
* I wasn’t kidding. I kept waiting for the damn numbers to light up.
Turns out I had to verbally announce my seat selection, so in this game of theater bingo I made my pick and was handed my tickets.
In this instance, it was no big deal.
I think we counted five people in the theater other than us, so even if we’d been seated next to someone who smelled of cigarettes, pickles, Bud Light and damp ass, we could’ve moved to several other desirable locales.
But here’s my worry: Matt Reeves’ “The Batman” premieres on June 25, 2021. That’s a Friday, meaning there will be Thursday night preview showings on June 24.
Obviously I’ll be at one of those (probably the midnight showing) and because he’s Batman, I expect all early screenings to sell out.
So … as soon as tickets go on sale (and they haven’t yet – I checked) I’m going to have to select my back row seats well in advance with no clue who I’ll be sitting next to.
And that’s gonna suck.
For one thing, the back row is the “Flatulence Zone.” I’m admitting nothing here other than to say gas events often take place there.
So if cigarettes, pickles, Bud Light and damp ass guy sits next to me – and recently ate a deviled egg – there’s gonna be a situation.
And even though there are numbers on the tickets you know as well as I do there’ll be some jackass who’ll sit in your seat.
You’ll then have to tell the person they’re in your seat, and things are bound to get uncomfortable.
If it’s a tiny old man – no more than 5-1, 130 and preferably suffering from asthma – I could probably just pick him up and put him in the aisle.
But what if it’s a big kid who could beat me up?
That means I have the option of telling an usher someone is in my seat (and still probably getting beat up) or taking someone else’s seat and continuing the cycle of chaos and potential bloodshed.
Nope, I don’t like this new system at all. Obviously the people who run theaters think it’s a good idea but it just seems to me like it’ll cause more problems than it’s worth.
Regardless, I’m already getting emotionally prepared for June 24, 2021, and dreading who my viewing companions might be.
I do plan on eating plenty of garlic before I go, though.
If I have to deal with cigarettes, pickles, Bud Light and damp ass guy, I want to be able to fight back.