Endeth The Dark Knight weekend.

The Dark Knight weekend is officially over.
I have a few stories, but I'm really tired (3 straight 9 AM showings = three straight 6 AM wake ups), so I'm going to leave you with this little gem from this afternoon and a little bit of backstory.

Today was easily the busiest of all three afternoons (nearly every afternoon show, both IMAX and regular, was sold out), so I was put at Guest Services doing a job that I have not trained for and am not qualified to do. What I can do well though, is answer phones. And the phones were ringing constantly.

Me: Muvico Parisian 20, this is Sarika speaking, how may I help you?
Girl: Are you guys playing The Dark Knight?
Me (exasperated): Yes. We are showing The Dark Knight every 40 minutes, IMAX shows are sold out throughout the weekend, but you can currently buy tickets for every other evening show, but they are selling out quickly.
Girl: Is that Batman?
Me: Yes.
Girl: Okay, now is that, like, based on a comic strip or something?

At that point I was unable to find words. That had to be a joke, right? A prank to play on movie theatre employees on the busiest weekend of the year?
I'll leave the Space Chimps story for a later time. It just doesn't compare.

Passing judgment.

Today a lady asked me what movie she should watch. Rather than wanting advice, she really just wanted someone to tell her what to do. She then proceeded to talk about her divorce and time off and credit cards. Good God, she liked to talk. I told her that Wall-E was easily the best movie currently on the board, and that it was heartrending and wonderful.

So, she bought a ticket to Wall-E. About an hour later, I see her walk out of the theatre and stop to tell people that she doesn't know, NOT to watch this film.

It occurred to me then that this woman obviously did not have a heart (or emotions, or naturally blond hair) or was just stupid, so it's no real surprise that her husband divorced her.

Wall-E is a great film.

Events of last Friday

Last Friday, I worked during the day, so I didn't get to see my normal mix of sketchy drunk guys and jerkasses, but the idiots were indeed out in full effect!

1. A handicapped guy decided to pick a fight in the bathroom with an undercover cop. First he punched him in the face, and then a full out brawl ensued. The cops were called, incident reports were filled, and people were banned for life, and a black guy with an iPod filled me in with all of the bathroom details.
What did this result in? Tens of people asking for refunds because they felt unsafe in the theatre. Fantastic!

2. Four summer camp groups came in. One of 150 kids. What did this result in? Tens of people asking for refunds because they didn't want to be in a theatre with children. You're seeing Wall-e at 12:30 PM. Get a job, guys! Don't complain about children in a theatre in the middle of summer in the middle of the day!

3. One of the children (who I now regret defending) vomited. Everywhere.

4. An old man asked me to give money to his young female 'companions' while he rushed away for an emergency. I told him that I couldn't do this but he was more than welcome to go back into the theatre and give it to them. Instead, he waited in line to give it to Guest Services. We spent the next hour or so WAITING for these girls (and later interrogating them about the man, so they now probably think that the old man was up to something nefarious) and getting pissed off.

5. I was a greeter for a while. I don't mind being a greeter, but really, it's a job that they could train monkeys to do. Not even chimps, I'm talking capuchins or spider monkeys. A hilarious sidenote is that "capuchins" comes up as "chinstrap" on SpellCheck.

6. I hate Palm Beachers. I was working box for a short while because of an influx of people/people calling in/insanity with the cops and fight and such, and these two small Palm Beach girls (probably around 6 and 8) come in wearing $300 Dior sunglasses and dressed like trophy wives with their nanny. Now, if children want to be treated like adults, I'll treat them like adults. I won't pander to them. So, I didn't. And these little girls made it a point to speak down to me, even more so after I recommended Wall-E to them. Giving them and in-depth description of "Get Smart" and going in to detail about the 1960s television series left them with blank stares on their faces. Score one for me. Then I refused to sell them tickets to The Love Guru, because I don't believe in selling tickets to a 120 minute dick joke to children. Was I on a high horse at that point? Probably. But I don't care, because I hate Palm Beachers and that their children act entitled. Just because your sunglasses are the equivalent to my paycheck, doesn't mean that you can talk down to me.

More work-related complaining

Yesterday this guy came up to me at work and asked me if we were going to go through the same thing again. I had no clue what he was talking about for a minute and them remembered that this was the douchebag who found it hilarious to mess with me on my first day. Last time I got out of talking to him by pretending to shoot myself in the head and then shuffling him off to another station. This week, I wasn't so lucky. I was the only one working, and it was about 12:20 AM.

Idiot: "Come on, seriously? You don't remember me? You didn't think I was cute?"
Me: "No. I only notice Jewish boys."
Idiot: "I'm Jewish!"
Me: "When was the last time you went to temple?"
Idiot: "I go to the Temple of...me. (chuckles) When was the last time that YOU went to temple?"
Me: "I'm not Jewish, sir."
Idiot: "Neither am I!"

Now, I'm used to dealing with idiots and drunks. Being between two bars and within shaking distance of quite a few more, I deal with drunk idiots every night that I work. But never this irritating. He kept on talking and talking and then talking some more while I dealt with his friends. Then he vowed to come in every weekend. I was equal parts offended by his cockiness and crappy taste in movies (First Zohan, then The Love Guru). I hate Palm Beachers.

On the plus side, some other guy gave me a present. It was a little action figure of the crane from Kung Fu Panda. And that pretty much just made my night.

Here's a tip: wait for the DVD

Since beginning work at Muvico in West Palm, I've found that I've becoming at least 10-15% more judgmental.
I don't hate most of the patrons based on their crappy taste in movies (Really, man, you want two tickets for the midnight showing of Zohan? Really?), I hate them based on mere existence.

1. It it not MY fault that movies cost $9.50. I cannot do anything about it. I'm working here because I'm home for the summer and didn't want to pay rent in Gainesville.
2. It is not my fault that there's a curfew in the city of West Palm Beach. Yes, I could sell you a ticket for The Happening at 11:45, but the cop at the door checking IDs won't let you in, and will proceed to chew my ass out over it. That, and you're 14, so go home.
3. Don't dither. Know what movie you're going to see at what time. Holding a fake smile while you Sidekick, talk on your phone, or painstakingly discuss every movie with your friends gets tiresome.
4. Don't ask me for the plotline of every movie playing. I don't even watch movies.
5. After sitting in a glass box for six hours, I will laugh along with your stupid jokes, but the second you walk away I will talk about your stupidity with my coworkers. Also, we can pretty much tell if you're a dirtbag boyfriend. We don't like you.

A very angry copy editor?

This is from the textbook from my Advertising class. The orange highlighting is mine. It's either an angry copy editor or a printer averse to capital letters.

Productivity.

This is part of what I did while not studying last night. It is a robot with a stomach-ache. This was in the early hours of the morning.
Medium: Brawny paper towel and 2-in-1 ball point pen/highlighter.

So, good game, huh?

I was in the elevator last night, rushing like I do, because I had to be at a speech at 7:00 PM. It was 6:38 and I had forgotten my notebook on my desk and had to come back up to get it.
I got into the elevator with a couple coming back from playing tennis. I had my headphones in, but no music was playing. I'm not sure why I do that, but I think it's because it helps me avoid awkward elevator conversations.
Anyway, we were on the second floor and the girl looks at the guy and says "I love you" - it must have been a first because he just stood there and gawked for a moment. The elevator kept going up and he didn't say anything. And we all felt uncomfortable. I got off on the fifth floor and don't know what happened after that. But if that was an awkward five or six seconds for me, I can't help but think how horrible it was for that those poor bastards.

That photo may actually be of a nectarine.

I'm predicting a huge resurgence for the Moldy Peaches. Adam Green, you've let go, but you have Ellen Page and Michael Cera to thank.
Juno was a wonderful movie. My crush on Michael Cera has grown exponentially.
That photo may actually be of an nectarine. I don't know. I dropped a class called Growing Fruit for Fun and Profit last year.

Tim Tebow builds families.

I love how every time Tim Tebow comes on TV my mom says something along the lines of "He's so handsome" or "Tim Tebow is a good looking boy, isn't he?" She makes me laugh.

Mom doesn't watch college football. At all. She knows that the Gators wear orange and blue because I bring my laundry home on holidays. She doesn't know coaches or mascots.

But Mom knows Tim Tebow's name. And it makes me love her all the more. One day, I'm convinced, she'll use "stiff-arm" as a verb. And then my job will be done.

A case for new sneakers.

I bought a pair of Adidas Gazelles five years ago.
I still wear them regularly.
This is my way of telling myself that I need new shoes.

I won't, Steve Perry.

I saw this stop sign on NW 19th and 2nd on the way to the Elementary School where I volunteer.
I won't stop believin', Steve Perry. Ever.

Dub.

Whatever I said, whatever I did, I didn't mean it. I just want you back for good.

Alright, now, I know that Take That's Back For Good was released thirteen years ago, but that line just pisses me off. It won't stop me from singing along (not with the windows down though, my 'street cred' is worth something) but it's a really bad premise for a song.
You should KNOW what you did wrong. All purpose apologies are worthless.
I don't know why that got to me.

Cute. Is it yours?

European Man: Cute, is it yours?
Me: It's a raccoon!
European Man: It's cute.
Me: It probably has rabies!
European Man: Yeah (he smiles and walks away).

This is my life. Today, the raccoon featured above sidled up to me and I freaked out. It was about a foot and a half away from me before jumping into a garbage can. It wasn 't scared at all. Between freaking out and having people laugh at me (I'm assuming they were, as they weren't helping me!), I managed to take a photo of it. Harold and Kumar flashbacks...

This only happens to me.

Good seats.

Florida v. Troy. 09/08/07 at Florida Field. Result: 59-31 Win.

Sandpiper Air was a great airline.

Steven Weber. He played Brian Hackett on Wings. Wings was the show that defined summers for me growing up. Each morning on USAm, I would be treated with two episodes of this (dare I say) classic sitcom, and I ate it up. Yep, I loved Wings. And if a Wings marathon was on right now, I'd probably be watching it. I hated Helen, but it was okay, because Brian more than made up for her. But this post has nothing to do with Wings.

It has to do with Steven Weber who regularly contributes to the Huffington Post. He's part of the vast left wing conspiracy. He writes better than I could ever wish to.

In other news, I'm headed to the birthplace of a nation, Philadelphia. And I'm far too excited about Independence Hall. I just hope that I don't cry out sadness, seeing as this administration is pretty much spitting on the Constitution.

New camera!

It's a Canon Powershot SD750 - small, cute, and pretty rockin'. I love it. It comes pretty much with photoshop built in (except for the whole airbrushing thing) and now accompanies me everywhere. If we hang out, be prepared to have your picture taken.

Neville?!

All the way to the left - who is that attractive man? All scruffy and indie rock with a semi-rockin' sweater?

It's Neville from the Harry Potter movies. The "chubby little git" as I so affectionately called him. NEVILLE!? You got so good looking. Mindbogglingly so. How did I ignore this Matthew Lewis character for so long? Then again, I don't even know how old he is, he could easily be not even close to legal.

AND... I kind of sicken myself now.

Damn brain-mouth filter

I was driving home on Saturday and in my rearview mirror I saw this couple walking through a parking lot together and thought, "Aw, what an adorable little interracial couple." Then I saw what they were carrying...and wearing. And realized that it was my parents walking out of that store.

Having never thought of them in that way, that was a little bit of a shocker. I told them over dinner. Papa laughed and Mom tried to smack me.

Ahh, family.

I don't have a photo of them at my disposal, so here is a photo of Sammy Davis Jr. and his white wife.

Ah, capitalism.

Today, I am slightly more of a grown up. For today, the twenty-second day of June, I opened a savings account. And by doing this, ensured that I have a good amount of money to blow when I make my way through Europe. Go Sarika.