Saturday, June 30, 2012

Once there was a time, and that time is not now...

Every once in a great while, Candace and I will go out on date night. Date nights are sacred. They are few and far between. They are expensive. They are coveted, protected, and highly prized. Don’t mess with date night. Ever.

There’s a little place up the street that is a dinner-and-a-movie joint all in one. It is a fledgling national chain that has really a hit for the 21-30 year-old crowd who seem to use it as a pick-up place or dumping ground. Either way, it is sometimes hit-or-miss as far as the crowd goes, but is close enough to make it worth the while. You can sit there watching a movie, and the waiter will bring you a beer, glass of wine or cocktail, and pretty good food, too.

We went to see Prometheus. Not bad. Until the suspenseful parts started to kick in. Thats when a couple in the theater began to have a conversation the whole theater could hear. These two just kept taking away, regardless of how many times they were being politely “SHHhhhhh’d.” Candace leaned in to me and said, “Those two are driving me nuts”, which we all know is wife-speak for “go over there and do something about this.” Because of the nature of the establishment and the nature of its movie-goers after a few rounds of liquid concessions, I figure the best way to handle the situation is to ask the waiter to intervene. No sense in making trouble...

No waiter to be found for about 20 minutes. I am guessing fear. Makes me speculate the size and tattoo placement of the offender.

“I’m getting sick of this!” (Translation: You better get up right now or this is going to be a pretty lousy date night, if you know what I am saying!)

I get up, move over to the other side of my wife to cut her off from the offenders, and hopefully make enough commotion to let the couple know that the crowd moving against them.

The silence lasted about 20 seconds.

I look at Candace and say, “Let me handle this.” I decide to count to 10. Upon reaching the magic number, I plan to stand up, walk over the couple, and ask them (as politely as I can) to please hold it down, or carry out their conversation elsewhere. One. Two. Three... Four... I get to lucky number Seven when Candace takes matters into her own hands...

“Shut up!!!”

The couple begin to respond to Candace in derogatory fashion... She cuts them off.

“SHUT
UP!!! Just watch the movie!!!”

The snickering and cheering behind us and around us completely bolsters the confidence of my 5-foot, 1-inch Firecracker, while I am preparing for a testosterone invasion from across the theater....

After my Firecracker of a wife reset the tone for the remainder of the evening (movie in front of me, wife to my left, antagonist to the right), the movie continued to entertain and the crowd seemed to be back on track in their focus. Roll the credits, cuz this is where it might get interesting.

At the conclusion of the film, I turned to my dear, sweet and somewhat diminutive wife and said (words to the effect), “I am going to stand up. You are going to stand up. I am going to walk to the aisle and make room for you to step into the aisle. You are going to look straight at the door, the floor or whatever else is directly in front of you. I don’t care if anyone says anything to you, is staring at you, or throws anything at you. You will keep looking forward, you will keep walking forward, and you will not say ANYTHING.”

“O.K., O.K!”, she said. I know this woman. From this point out, anything goes.

Plan A commences. I stand up... absolutely as tall as I can. Thankfully, I was wearing a couple layers so my chicken-wing arms were covered. About then, I was carrying 230 on the 6’4” frame (and not in the places that instill awe, mind you). The object here, if I remember rightly from my billy-goat mentality bouncer days, was look intimidating. Who better to channel at this moment than my father? I put the “you talking’ to me?” Mike Lane look on my face (complete with cocked eyebrows), puffed out what chest I have, and stared straight at the couple as I walked to the aisle. I was anticipating the worst...

Apparently, my channeled father is a scary guy (and I am a pretty good actor).

No comments:

Post a Comment