17 Simple Rules For Going To The Cinema With Me
17 Simple Rules For Going To The Cinema With Me.
1. You may not talk at any point from the display of the film’s certification to the moment the lights come up. Whispering is permitted during the trailers, but whispering resulting in snorts and/or whoops of laughter will be punished with similarly cheery vigor by an appointed attendant. Flashlight optional.
2. You may not for any reason leave your seat to visit the bathroom at any juncture during the film, from the point of the display of certification to the moment the lights come up. If you cannot hold it in that long, you must either provide yourself a colostomy bag (or equivalent) or simply not visit the pictures.
3. Your license to eat anything other than salted or sweet popcorn is hereby revoked. I do not wish to sit adjacent to an imbecile grazing through hotdogs, nachos, hamburgers, candy, chocolate bars, ice cream or any other type of confection. If you wish to, you may purchase a small soda or bottle of mineral water prior to the movie, which you may sip quietly until the cup/bottle is two-fifths from being empty. At this point you will place the cup/bottle on the ground and not touch it again until the lights come up.
4. Just as spilling means licking in fraternities at college, so crunching shall mean skullfucking under my regime at the picture house.
5. If the film is anything other than a comedy, you should not laugh aloud for longer than between two and three seconds at any one time. If you must laugh, do not do so with the ironic air of somebody who believes laughing at the joke is beneath them: I don’t care that you feel bad about going to see a sci-fi film by yourself, I just want you to be utterly invisible.
6. If the film is a comedy, uproarious laughter at regular intervals is expected if somewhat unfortunate. Ways to spot a comedy film: the protagonist may have a hilarious and gender-defying job such as male ice skater, male hairdresser, female marine or tramp. The film will also likely star somebody with an extremely punchable face.
7. No matter how much of a bond we developed when you squeezed your size 16 ass an inch from my face to get your seat, you will not at any point engage me during the film, whether to discuss plot discrepancies, particularly outstanding dialogue, or to offer me some of your sweet or salted popcorn.
8. You will find your own seat in my cinema, and you will do it quickly and accurately. There is no excuse for not being able to work within a basic grid system, particularly when online ordering systems give you the chance to familiarise yourself with the layout of the theatre before leaving home. We will hold half-hour long taster sessions on Thursdays, Sundays and Tuesdays for those who feel they are on the brink of understanding the seating system but would like reassurance. During these sessions the cinema will operate in complete darkness and attendants will be on hand to answer questions and give you clues. However, if you cannot successfully locate your seat after two such sessions, you will be executed with little or no warning.
8. Anyone heard to utter the phrase “Did you see that?!” at any point during the screening will be taken outside and have the word “DULLARD” branded on their forehead. They will not be readmitted without purchasing a new ticket, since they instantly invalidated their original with a heavy dose of stupid.
9. You will not involuntarily exclaim any of the following, or any derivatives of the following, ten minutes before and ten minutes after the end of the screening: “Oh SHIT! OUCH!”, “Woah!”, “Oooooooh!”, “PAIN CITY!”, “Holy [anything]!”. Such exclamations are not involuntary. If you are a Tourette’s sufferer, you will provide a confirmatory note from a registered and reputable practitioner of medicine before purchasing your tickets, whereupon you will be politely refused entry.
10. You will not put your feet, legs, knees, elbows, hands, jumper, jacket, drink, bag or child on or near the back of my seat at any stage of proceedings. Failure to comply will result in me seizing ownership of your feet, legs, knees, elbows, hands, jumper, jacket, drink or bag with immediate effect. Children will simply be retrained as enthusiastic urologists and given back to you.
11. Accidents happen: if for any reason you do brush me, touch me or kick me during the screening, if I wish to obtain an apology from you I will either contact you in writing in the weeks following the film or turn around in my seat, whereupon you will raise your hand and smile apologetically. This will conclude the matter: under no circumstances should you incessantly tap me on the back until I look around and then apologise for brushing me momentarily with your feet.
12. After a great deal of consideration, I have decided that your children are welcome at the cinema! However, you should note that if you fail to discipline them swiftly and effectively during the film for any outbursts or other minor crimes, I will not hesitate in issuing forth my own psychological punishments in the months and years following the screening.
13. With that said, your toddler cannot understand the movie and must therefore pay a surcharge of £900 on his or her ticket, both for taking up valuable space in the theatre and for putting the entire audience on amber alert for a loud case of ‘the grumpies’. In such cases, a knowing smile and statement attesting to your child being “overtired” are neither satisfactory nor welcome. You will be ejected from the cinema post-haste, and your child will be fired from a cannon on the roof of the cinema through the icy freeze of outer space and into the heart of the sun.
14. My attendants will be a jolly, attentive and knowledgeable staff who will not discuss your choice of movie with you or attempt to up-sell you to better seats. In return for this you will not patronise or smirk at them simply because they work at the cinema and you are some sort of big-shot. At my cinema, everyone is equal. Except infants and those with Tourette’s syndrome.
15. You will not be allowed to purchase tickets for the latest Matthew Mcconaughey vehicle until you are able to spell his surname correctly without writing it down for assistance. If necessary, the cinema is prepared to screen these films without audiences.
16. You will quickly and thoroughly collect your party’s trash at the end of the screening and place it in a designated trash receptacle. If one is not available or is clearly overflowing, you will not drop it on the floor, nor will you half-heartedly attempt to jam it into the bin; you will place it neatly adjacent to the bin.
17. You will not walk past the queue of folks waiting to see the next screening and loudly crack wise with mock-spoilers about the movie. “Oh, I cannot believe the Joker is Batman’s Dad. Can you, Mikey?” When you turn around, Mikey will be gone and I will be standing in his stead holding a hunting rifle.
SO good.
