Wednesday, May 18, 2005
The Final Countdown
Despite days of protestation to various and sundry that in no wise would I ever join the throngs of benighted geeks who will be going to see Revenge of the Sith tonight at midnight...
... I caved.
Drove by the theater this evening after dinner and thought, "Howzabout I just mosey on in there and see whether the midnight show is sold out?" I figured it'd be a hoot. I figured I'd go up to the counter, ask the ticket girl, and she'd just laugh and laugh because while Dalton is not the biggest town in the world, it certainly has enough freaks, geeks, nerds, and general Star Wars aficionados to fill a measly little midnight showing of the most anticipated movie of the year, and the tickets would have sold out long since.
So I asked her nonchalantly, "Is the midnight show of Star Wars sold out?"
"Nope," she replied without hesitation.
I began to see the edges of my doom.
"One, please."
It was my voice speaking those words, though I had not willed it to do so.
"Seven fifty," she answered tiredly, as if she were a put-upon teenager making minimum wage to sell tickets to thirty-something Star Wars fans.
Swiped my debit card, entered the PIN. Took forever to go through. While I waited for distant and unseen servers to process the transaction (with its attendent $0.99 debit card surcharge), I had time to really think about what I was letting myself in for.
I better go home and take a nap, I thought in a moment of unfamiliar clarity.
So home is where I am now, and both napping and laundry are on the pre-movie agenda. I'm trying to figure out exactly how long I can nap before I arise, re-shower, and go to the theater.
Tomorrow is club day, which is a good thing, as I'll probably be unserviceable for anything but babysitting the kids. I expect some plucky twelve year-old will mop the floor with me at chess, unless I pass out and my head crashes into the board and scatters the pieces everywhere. Also tomorrow is Awards Night. I have to present two awards, and because sleeplessness has on me the same truth-serum effect that inebriation has on other people, I expect my speeches will go something like:
"It is a great honor to teach Spanish to the undisciplined and mentally incompetent mutants you so creatively call your 'children.' Once I have assembled my army of middle-schoolers, I will unleash them upon an unsuspecting world to smash my enemies to small pieces and enslave you, their former oppressors. None shall be spared. Except maybe Jennifer Connelly. And now, the award for academic excellence in Spanish goes to... ME! It's mine, all mine, yes, yes, it is, preciousss! Gollum! Gollum!"
I can only hope the movie will be good enough to justify the humiliation.
UPDATE: It was so worth it. There are no Episodes I or II; there is only Episode III.
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... I caved.
Drove by the theater this evening after dinner and thought, "Howzabout I just mosey on in there and see whether the midnight show is sold out?" I figured it'd be a hoot. I figured I'd go up to the counter, ask the ticket girl, and she'd just laugh and laugh because while Dalton is not the biggest town in the world, it certainly has enough freaks, geeks, nerds, and general Star Wars aficionados to fill a measly little midnight showing of the most anticipated movie of the year, and the tickets would have sold out long since.
So I asked her nonchalantly, "Is the midnight show of Star Wars sold out?"
"Nope," she replied without hesitation.
I began to see the edges of my doom.
"One, please."
It was my voice speaking those words, though I had not willed it to do so.
"Seven fifty," she answered tiredly, as if she were a put-upon teenager making minimum wage to sell tickets to thirty-something Star Wars fans.
Swiped my debit card, entered the PIN. Took forever to go through. While I waited for distant and unseen servers to process the transaction (with its attendent $0.99 debit card surcharge), I had time to really think about what I was letting myself in for.
I better go home and take a nap, I thought in a moment of unfamiliar clarity.
So home is where I am now, and both napping and laundry are on the pre-movie agenda. I'm trying to figure out exactly how long I can nap before I arise, re-shower, and go to the theater.
Tomorrow is club day, which is a good thing, as I'll probably be unserviceable for anything but babysitting the kids. I expect some plucky twelve year-old will mop the floor with me at chess, unless I pass out and my head crashes into the board and scatters the pieces everywhere. Also tomorrow is Awards Night. I have to present two awards, and because sleeplessness has on me the same truth-serum effect that inebriation has on other people, I expect my speeches will go something like:
"It is a great honor to teach Spanish to the undisciplined and mentally incompetent mutants you so creatively call your 'children.' Once I have assembled my army of middle-schoolers, I will unleash them upon an unsuspecting world to smash my enemies to small pieces and enslave you, their former oppressors. None shall be spared. Except maybe Jennifer Connelly. And now, the award for academic excellence in Spanish goes to... ME! It's mine, all mine, yes, yes, it is, preciousss! Gollum! Gollum!"
I can only hope the movie will be good enough to justify the humiliation.
UPDATE: It was so worth it. There are no Episodes I or II; there is only Episode III.
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