The Kid Ruins the Picture

Story Sent in by Douglas:

Liz and I were on a date, out to see a movie. I think it was one of the Scream films, and what's important to remember is that she had requested to see this film in particular. We had been out together before, but not to see a movie. I paid for our tickets and we sat down in the crowded theater.

Liz would not shut up the entire time. From the opening credits to the final scene, she had a comment about everything, which she said out loud, whether I wanted to hear it or not.

"I've never heard of any of these people," she said over the opening credits. At first, I thought she was trying to be funny, and so I took it in stride. Then, she continued, with each name: "I haven't heard of him. Haven't heard of her. Haven't heard of him. Can't tell if it's a man's name or woman's name, but haven't heard of it, in either case."

Thanks, Liz. I'm glad. I hoped she'd settle down after the opening credits, but throughout the first scene, she snorted, groaned, or vocalized disgust. "Five minutes in, and the acting sucks!" she said loudly enough for about everyone in the theater to hear.

Someone shushed her, and she was quiet for about a minute. When she did speak again, it was a bit lower in tone. "Their outfits make no sense. Isn't it supposed to be springtime in the movie? They're dressed in autumn clothes."

I nodded sharply. In the next scene, she had even more to say. "You haven't seen them use the bathroom yet. That's unrealistic. I hate movies that are unrealistic."

"This is a horror film," I reminded her.

She said, "So horror stories take place in a parallel universe where people don't shit? I'm confused. Can you explain it to me?"

I shushed her, and she was quiet, again, for a good long minute. Next scene, and she was at it again, back to regular volume. "Why's that guy trying to mack it with that girl? She's ugly. They're both ugly." She turned to me. "Have you noticed that every actor in this film is ugly?"

Another shush from the surrounding audience. I asked her, "Do you want to go see another film? You don't seem to bs enjoying this."

Her eyes widened, but not at me. She pointed at the screen and said, "Gross!" A couple was kissing, onscreen. Then, louder, Liz repeated, "Gross!"

"Shut up!" someone in the audience yelled.

Liz took no notice. "I can't wait until these people die," she said, then specified, "The people in the movie."

What a relief. I asked her, "Would you like to see another film? Seriously, I don't mind." Especially if it would shut her up, even for a short while.

She shrugged. "This is fine."

She kept her voice low, but continued comment after comment. If her comments were funny, I'd have possibly been able to condone it, but they consisted of complaint after complaint. I must have offered to switch films at least half a dozen times more, but she refused to budge, and would not shut up. I then went from being nice to shushing her, which kept her quiet for a few seconds each time.

After a little while longer, I moved a few seats away from her, as she simply would not be quiet. But Liz? She just kept talking, as if I was still there. She didn't even seem to notice that I had left. I did my best to concentrate on the rest of the film, and when the end credits rolled and she was still commenting, I stood up and asked her if she was ready to go.

"God yes," she said, standing up, "I hated that stupid movie."

I said, "We could've gone to see another one. I offered it several times."

She gave me a funny look. "You did? I don't remember. I would have jumped at the opportunity."

Last date.