Some Open Letters I've Been Meaning to Write

Dear Man At Spiderman 2 and Woman Who I Assume Was Your Wife,

Wow, that sure was a crowded theater, wasn’t it? My sister and I barely found seats! (We were the ones sitting next to what I assume was your son). Normally, I try to leave a buffer seat, but there just wasn’t room.

People like your son are the reason I leave a buffer seat. See, while I appreciate the fact that the little guy likes Spidey, perhaps you should explain to him that other people do, too. And some of us want to listen to the expository dialogue (however stunted or corny it may be) as well as the fight scenes. I also like fight sound effects, but generally prefer them to be a. only during said fight scenes and b. performed by professionals, i.e. not your son.

I noticed you did talk to him, and that was a step in the right direction. I propose that you put him in between you and your lady friend/wife so you can both watch for telltale signs of irritating behavior and give him a look of death and/or smack upside the head according to the situation at hand. That, or dip him up to the neck in Botox before taking him to the theater. Because I think that’s the only way we can cure those muscle spasms.

Convulsively yours,
Lisa

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Dear Boy Who Liked Spiderman 2 A Whole Lot,

Hi! I’m here with a fun science fact! I know it sounds logical, but even if you suck on your straw hard enough to collapse the sides of your glass and rattle the ice around, the resulting vacuum will not bring your soda back. No matter how many times you do it. It may cause unseen forces to whack you in the head, though. So seriously- knock it off.

Scientifically yours,
Lisa

P.S. Every time you kick the seat in front of you, your dog dies a little bit.

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Dear Uninterested Lady At Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban,

Are you aware that we are living in a free country? That seeing every movie made is not mandatory? That you do, in fact, have the option to say ‘no’? (Although judging your book by its cover, as I am wont to do, you rarely say ‘no.’ But in this case, I mean ‘no’ as in ‘Thanks for inviting me to Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, but I think I’d rather stay home and Febreeze my crotchless fishnet tights and tease my hair to untold heights.’)

Maybe you were there to showcase your arguably amazing gum snapping abilities. Because honestly, it was like you were chewing on regenerative bubble wrap. I’m sure your lingual abilities will serve you well in other aspects of your life. Perhaps I could have appreciated it more had you not been doing it in my ear. Imagine my shock when I realized that the snapping had stopped! I turned, positive that you were suffering from some sort of comatose state due to the end stages of some intricate combination of STDs.

I’m glad you are flexible enough to curl up and nap in the seat. I’m also grateful that the snapping stopped, the snoring never started, and you weren’t learning on me. But you should really get that drooling problem checked out. Drowning is a real danger here.

Soggily yours,
Lisa

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Dear Woman Next to Me at The Bourne Supremacy,

More power to the independent moviegoer! It’s quite liberating, isn’t it? Whatever seat you want, focused completely on the movie at hand… the lone cinematic experience can be a great thing. I guess I didn’t realize the theater was going to be so crowded. Who knew a bloodied, amnesiac Matt Damon had such long-term box office draw? Mmmmm…. But anyway.

You know how there’s some noises you can only hear in your head? No, besides the voices. Well, I’m just letting you know that the symphony in which you were apparently playing first-chair Slurpee-straw violin was not one of those noises. We all heard it. And the general opinion was that you need some serious practice time, preferably served outside of a theater, or to take the lid off of that cup already.

Harmoniously yours,
Lisa