A Peninsula

Much like a hyena who narrows his chase to the weakest antelope in a herd, last night I ensnared my middle child who was slowed considerably by a cast on her foot. Not to worry, I didn’t consume her. The injury I inflicted was of a temporary nature. I made her my date for dinner, and a movie of my choice. 

But that sounds lovely you say. I would agree, however the objection might have been my movie of choice. It was “Love and Friendship”, a regency era film based on Jane Austen’s short story “Lady Susan.” Possibly not the first choice for an eighteen year old, but being the aspiring thespian of my brood, she does understand and speak the Queens English quite well. As such, she was also an rendered the least likely to sleep through the film.

I rarely have nights out, so when I do, I want perfect, or at least my idea of perfect. My perfect includes a bit of personal space. I realize that is not always possible, but when it is, I am highly sensitive to any perceived spacial encroachment. I wish to be an island, but, the best I can do is to be peninsula…attached at the shoulder to an interloper.

The theater was not full. Mini and I arrived early and climbed to the empty top row of seats. A few minutes passed when, as one would expect, a tall man with a giant head and wide shoulders sat directly in front of me. He and his entire big headed wide shouldered family created a wall in front of us that forced us to sit up unnaturally straight and tall if we wanted to see. 

As aggravating as that was, it was the next couple to enter, who made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. They climbed up to the top row, and chose to sit in the seat next to me. The entire row was empty as I said, so why was I subjected to arm and shoulder brushing, loud sounds of cellophane opening, foul food smells, wet open mouthed mastication, slurping, and stage whispering? I don’t know why. 

I should have known better, because this has happened before. The last time I saw a movie in a theater was worse. That time I had failed to lower the armrest before a lady-and a half sat down next to, and on top of me. I was baffled at the idea that I was crowded in an empty row, and would have gotten up to move if not for her girth which had me trapped. It created a vacuum that held me captive until she uncorked herself. This time, I did at least lower the armrest before the onslaught, but I should have used my purse as a chalk line. 

This experience brings up some questions Are people that lonely? Do I need medication? What’s wrong with the seat—one seat over? Why don’t I stay home?
July 3, 2016, One Word Daily Prompt: Island~ <a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/island/”>Island</a>&nbsp;

6 thoughts on “A Peninsula

  1. Lydia–I cannot even remember the last time I went to the movies–for the very reasons you just stated. The whole darn theatre is wide open and someone has to sit right next to me/in front of me?? Give me a break.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. That post was funny since my husband and I have not gone to the theater since “Babe” came out, which was some time ago. That was the last time we went. Our granddaughter was about 6 or 7 when we took her, and that was the last time we went.

    Theaters turn the sound up too high, and people do sit on top of you. I liked the part about “are they lonely, or do they need medication.” That was hilarious. I too hate the rattling of paper and blowing the straw paper across the theater. I think that tall, broad shouldered people look for smaller people to sit in front if 0nly to aggravate them..

    When we did go to theaters, we always chose seats by the wall and sat on the outside. Nobody seemed to want to crawl over us especially when I put my purse on the seat next to me.

    Oh well. You’re right and I see many valid points in this piece.

    Liked by 1 person

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