Back With a Vengeance
“The blog seems to be back with a vengeance,” observed Nick, and, as a frequent target of my vengeance, he should know.
I went to see the Minions movie with D., who shares my longtime interest in these lovable animated Twinkies.
Not everyone can dress like a Minion, but I happen to have a yellow shirt and denim overalls, so there you go. I sent a picture of this getup to Nick. “Do I look like a Minion?” I asked. “Yeah. Kinda.” he responded, obviously not sure which answer would get him in trouble. I should have asked, “Do these overalls make me look fat?”
First we went to McDonald’s, which featured giant Minion cutouts which D. longed to take home and add to her decor. This was not my regular McDonalds, which I’m guessing hasn’t changed since the 70’s. This was the fancy establishment at Lloyd/Rosenberger, nearer the theater. It looks like something out of the Matrix, with weird corners and glossy surfaces and ever-changing screens. I was so rattled at being in an unfamiliar setting that I forgot to specify no tartar on my fish sandwich, which then required a mopping-up operation involving 3 napkins. I resolved that the next time I was in some strange McDonald’s, I’d order nuggets, which require no special instructions on my part.
We proceeded to the theater, and parked under a sign saying Occupancy Assembly Point, which puzzled us greatly. I mean, we were assembled occupants, but still.
The last time I saw a movie in a theater was for Oliver Stone’s Doors film. I checked Google and found out this was in, um, 1991. When a theater had only 4 screens. In contrast, the current theater looks like an airline terminal (although, at our time of day, curiously unoccupied). The main difference is that there is absolutely no place to sit in the lobby. They strongly discourage sitting. Don’t even think about sitting until you get in the theater, or screening room, or whatever the young people call it nowadays.
We then went down a long creepy hallway, and into the theater proper. We were so early that there was no one else there. It was like a private showing. So we had a nice conversation in the dark. We also learned why not to arrive early–the pre-movie-trailer barrage of unrelated ads, which can be summed up as, “Use Your Cellphone To Get A Bunch Of Cheap Crap!”
MINIONS MOVIE POINTS YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE THOUGHT OF
–D. pointed out that in the caveman period, the Minions’ goggles were made of wood, I suppose because it’s not as heavy as stone.
–The Mystery of Evil: Why are the Minions always looking for an evil master? They’re so friendly and cute! Yeah, that’s pretty much the definition of overthinking something.
AND SPEAKING OF THE MYSTERY OF EVIL–CRISIS IN PROGRESS!
–Screaming female: “THIS GUY WAS GONNA GIVE ME A RIDE, BUT WHEN I COULDN’T SELL THE PILLS HE GAVE ME TO SELL, HE SAID HE WOULDN’T GIVE ME A RIDE UNLESS I GAVE HIM SOME P*SSY!” Really?? I even said, “Do you realize you just admitted being involved in a narcotics transaction?” and her only response was to yell “YOU GONNA GIVE ME A RIDE NOW THAT I GOT THE COPS ON THE PHONE?!” and hang up.
CRISIS IN PROGRESS INTERSECTS WITH MILDLY AMUSING ADVENTURES!
PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: When you text a wrong number and say “U got smot?” (I was tempted to reply, “Tell me what it is and I’ll tell you whether I have it”–instead, I just said “U got the wrong number”), and I am told that it means pot (although who could imagine anyone on the Urban Dictionary site making stuff up?)–have you considered the possibility that your text might go to someone WHO WORKS CLOSELY WITH THE POLICE DEPARTMENT? I plugged the number into Facebook–turns out she’s a nursing student at UK, with a seriously redneck boyfriend.
AND SPEAKING OF WOULD-BE EVIL MASTERS…
Someone tried searching for Spankey’s Pizza online. She misspelled it, and the web blocker primly informed her, Access Denied–Adult Content. No, there is no spanking at Dispatch. (“There should be,” Nick growls.)
ANOTHER PSA: If you call 911, and we tell you your situation is not a police matter, don’t ask to speak to someone “qualified.” Figuring out who and whether to send someone is kinda central to the job, so yes, we are qualified. (File under “911–Why We Ask All These Questions.”)