Robb and I had a no good, very bad, terrible, horrible history of watching movies together. Any trip to Blockbuster ended in an argument and extreme conclusions drawn about ourselves and our marriage.
He had lots of rules for which movie to pick.
If it doesn’t have enough big names in it, then it probably isn’t good because they couldn’t interest any good actors to be in a movie that sucks.
If it has too many big names in it, then it probably isn’t good because they had to invest in so many good actors and big names because the script and plot and story suck.
If it is on the rental shelves too soon, that means it didn’t last in the box office very long, which means it sucked.
If there are too many copies available on the shelves, that means nobody wants it, which means it sucked.
And nothing, ever, with Woody Allen’s name listed as an actor, director, producer, or endorser.
Add to this list of rules: I invariably, without fail, chose poorly. But a bad movie is still a movie, and I wanted to watch them.
I had this idea that we would be a couple who watched movies after bedtime, on the weekends, on date nights. That we would talk about what it afterward, I would compare it to the book without remotely expecting him to read it, and when the Oscars came around, we would have half an idea of what was going on.
We were not that couple. There are certain things you come to terms with.
But, I’m reinventing myself now, and guess what? The new me: she watches movies.
I caught a double header at the theater on Tuesday night. I saw The Way, Way Back – which I loved, and I will give two thumbs up and I’ll tell you why in another post that’s not about reinventing myself.
When that one ended, I still had over two hours on the babysitting meter, and Jobs (also two thumbs up, also another blog post in the wings) started in seven minutes. Just enough time to get a ticket.
Yes, I thought of quietly slipping into the theater and catching this second movie for free. But I didn’t want to sell my integrity for $10.50. Plus, they strategically put the second movie on the other side of the theater, so one would have to walk right through the lobby looking like a redhanded criminal of piracy.
So I bought a second ticket for my second viewing. And – wait for it – Popcorn, a large diet Coke, and Sour Patch Kids, the ultimate movie candy. And I only needed to take out a second mortgage for all of the above. And ‘butter flavored topping’ both cracks me up and creeps me out.
Sometimes I feel like such a grownup.
This was how I celebrated Robb’s birthday. I wanted to celebrate in a way that would refresh and renew, yet not require me to think about the fact that it was my husband’s birthday. Two movies = Perfect.
Aside from being the ultimate movie candy, those Sour Patch Kids are pretty much the perfect analogy for such an evening by myself: just enough sweet to make it not too sour.