Angry? Mad as hell and you can't take it anymore? Get something off your chest and it could be published online and/or in print. Bitches are anonymous and may be edited for length, grammar, spelling and our lenient standards of propriety.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
I went to Splice tonight. It was actually pretty okay, in a Cronenberg-y way. I was drawn in to the story of a mutant and the husband and wife team that created it. I laughed at the deliberately bad situations of mutant sex and generally had a good time being immersed in the story.
25 minutes before the end of the show, just as all the loose ends are being tied up, plot-wise and so on, the usher pushes the big garbage bin down to the seats and opens the top of it, letting it fall noisily. He then used a flashlight to read something on a clipboard, then stood there, shifting between two different spots. The ways this was distracting? A bunch.
I know it wasn't an Oscar-worthy film, but I was completely taken out of the story every time this guy did something. They run slides before the show telling the audience to turn off their phones/texts, shut up, and generally not disturb and distract the other customers. Here's an employee flaunting that. I didn't want to cause a larger distraction by telling him to knock it off because I didn't know how much he was bothering the rest of the (surprisingly large) audience. Me griping out loud I thought would be worse to everyone than what he was already doing.
I complained on my way out to a manager. I could have asked for/demanded a free ticket, but I told the manager I would be very happy if they would just tell these guys that people spend their money to come see a movie, not feel like the waiter who drops the bill off at your table while you're still on an appetizer, then stands there and makes you feel like you're not welcome anymore.
Hey usher: I know you have a job to do, but it wasn't supposed to start for another 25 minutes. One of the reasons I moved into my neighborhood is I love that theatre. I go to a couple movies every week. I don't want to have to drive out to Bayers Lake to watch movies.
Please be more considerate for the paying customers. The regular bitchers may now point out how I'm wrong for this. :) I'm even sighing with my real nom de plume. —Wheelie p
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