A night at the movies

During a rare and overdue outing with a girlfriend at a local movie theatre, I was pondering the idea that a movie was not the best choice for two girlfriends to accomplish any “catching up”. Since it is frowned upon to talk during movies and with the kids waiting for us at home, our conversation could not be lavish tonight. Oh well, that is what the social networks are there for. Tonight would be about clearing our minds of the mundane stresses
of everyday ratrace life with a good old fashion entertaining diversion. Enter the Golden Girls. I believe Diane Keaton in Morning Glory is a draw for women in the winter of life because we were surrounded by them. There is nothing what so ever wrong with that since I plan to be one very soon, but the three in particular that took up residence directly behind us seemed to me to planted by, I could only imagine, someone who did not like me very much.

While Dorothy, Rose and Blanche’s breakless chatter about Blanche’s drama teacher granddaughter, Rose’s pilot son and the long lost firend with arthritis they all hadn’t seen in years was slightly irritating during the trailers, I felt confident that these three seemingly elegant enough ladies who had surely taught their children to say “please and thank you” would politely hush during the movie.

So imagine my surprise when, with the commencement of the feature film, I discovered how seasoned this support team really was. They seemed to use an unmentioned but predetermined alternative method of staying in touch and supportive of each other that could not quite be accused as “talking during a movie”. Do you ever have those glimpses of an occurrence, like shoplifting, but you wouldn’t be able to exactly prove it and if the criminal is sharp enough he could actually make you look silly so you just have to move along? This was such an incident. With every thought or emotion evoking frame they would let out a specific sound for a corresponding opinion. They let out the most provocative sighs, grunts, snort, cackles or wheezes like a herd of barn animals until I was unsure that there were only three. God forbid that Rose did not communicate to Blanche that she thought that frame was funnier than Blanche did, or sooner than she did. Oh yes, and who was that cute girl in the lead role? Oh sure, you know her, that’s RACHEL MCADDAMS. She is from the LONDON AREA YOU KNOW, ST THOMAS to be specific. Goodness gracious, it was a good movie, but my recollection of it will forever be haunted with an incessant “what did he say?” until I can watch it several times in the serenity of my bedroom to wash away the ghosts of Blanche, Rose and Dorothy.