Part 2 of 2:
So I’m coming off the Marconi Grill debacle and I’m looking to “totally redeem myself” with the perfect romantic comedy. I would like to stop right here before we get going and remind my audience that my wonderful date is a small girl. She MIGHT be 94 pounds dripping wet. She’s wearing tight fitting designer jeans and a form fitting tee. Why do I share this information you might ask? Just wait, juuust you wait.
So we stroll to the ticket counter and if memory serves me correct I think I attempted to hold her hand. When we get to the ticket counter I ask for 2 tickets to The American President. And just when I think things are on the up swing the lady says, “Sorry, sold out.” I mean honestly can things get worse? I’m quick on my toes this time and ask for 2 tickets to Pocahontas. Pocahontas? I can’t believe that just came out of my mouth. If you think she looked at me weird when I ordered pasta with my cheese then she was REALLY looking at me weird now. Why I didn’t say Crimson Tide or even Die Hard w/ A Vengeance is beyond me. Both great movies in the theatre at that time. But no, I choose a G rated movie about an Indian princess singing about Colors of the Wind. Oh, I wanted to just die.
“So we’re going to see Pocahontas huh?” Angela says with a curious smile.
I had to think quick. What was I going to say? Yes Angela, that’s exactly what we’re doing. I thought a Disney classic would go great with our night of cheese and crayons. No. I can’t go down like this I thought to myself. So I did what every legalistic naïve teenage Christian dares to do. And with a cool smirk on my face I say, “Of course not, we’re sneaking IN to the American President.”
I thought I was the shit. Well, back then I would have thought I was the stuff. But regardless I strutted into that sold out theatre…only to have my hopes crushed. (The kind of crushed when you are hoping for the cash at Christmas and you get a sweater from grandma instead.) There was not a seat to be found. The movie is about to begin and I’m scanning every row only to realize that the best option for us was on the front row, ALL the way to the right. Picture if you will one of those gianormous stadium style theatres. You know how they have those 5 rows up in the front that are on level ground? Well, that’s where we are sitting. So I’m in the seat to the far right and Angela is sitting next to me on my left on the front row. We are so close and so far right that in order to see the screen we have to sit with our knees to our left and then we have to lean back to look up at the 75 foot screen.
As the lights dim down and the movie is about to begin I’m trying to calculate in my head when the perfect moment will be to attempt the “slide the hand to the knee and hope we hold hands” move. Well, then it happenes. Out of the corner of my left eye, I see Angela slowly slide her right hand down the front of her pants. I was nervous, shocked, appalled, giddy, and confused all at the same time. I had heard about things like this happening in the movie theatre but A. I thought that was only an urban legend and B. I screwed the cheese thing up so there is no way I’m going to handle THIS situation right. What do I say? What do I do?
“Um, no thanks I’m good right now.” Or maybe I should say, “Maybe later.” I mean what was she thinking? Maybe she had an itch or she was just adjusting. Do girls even do THAT?
Right then, she starts bringing her hand out from her groinal area and out comes a 1 pound bag of Twizzlers. My date just gave birth to candy. This girl has twizzlers in her crotch! And she opens the bag of delicious red sweets, pulls out several sticks, looks at me and says, “Twizzler?”
“Uh. I, uh. Um. Suuure.” My voice was shaking and meek. I held 2 Twizzlers in my hand that I just got from my dates “carinal treasures” (think Tad Hamilton) and I didn’t know what to say. I had many questions though. How? Why? HOW! Where in the world was she hiding an ENTIRE bag of Twizzlers? She is tiny remember? Tight jeans remember! When did she put that bag down there? Where was I when ALL of this was going on? Who hides Twizzlers in their underoos!?!?!
I am sad to say that was our only date. There was no kiss at the end because to be honest I was in a very fragile state of mind. Too many things had happened in one evening for me. But it was a night I will never forget. So the next time you’re at the Macaroni Grill, or the lights start to dim at your next box office hit, just remember the Twizzler girl…and laugh.
Its all about the memories,
SB
