Spiderman Oops
My most memorable “oops” comes from my intolerance of rude people and my need to speak my mind. Back when Spiderman was in the theater several years ago, my sister Leah and I decided to go see an afternoon showing. We rarely did things together as our schedules did not allow it, so we were both excited to be spending time together. After we purchased snacks and drinks, we walked into the semi-gloom of the theater. Choosing seats in the middle, as we shuffled down the aisle, the two guys in the row above us turned around and spoke. Two of my friends, Blake and Derek, were sitting in front of us. We spent the three minutes before the lights dimmed talking about the reviews we had heard of the movie. As the theater’s consideration announcements came on, Leah and I settled back into our seats and dug into our snacks. As the movie began, I heard a slurred male voice shouting, “Spiderman! Spiderman!” Rolling my eyes, I whispered to Leah, “Great, some drunken idiot is in here. I hope that’s all he’s going to say.”
As the world of Peter Parker unfolded before our eyes, Leah and I were drawn into the movie. Pretty soon, we were watching Peter struggle with his alter-ego, Spiderman. Soon, when Peter began to flash up on screen, the drunken idiot began to yell, “That’s that Spiderman!” “Watch out, Spidy’s gonna get you!” in an Adam Sandler like voice. After the third time, I started to get really agitated. I’m one of those who can’t stand for people to talk during a movie or tv show. The man continued to yell at the screen, making me think I was at home watching an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000. I squirmed in my seat, commented to my sister that we should go say something, and grew increasingly angry. Leah was also becoming frustrated and agitated, and as she has a strong addiction to nicotine, got up to smoke a cigarette, leaving me sitting alone in the theater.
Almost immediately after she left, the drunken idiot started up again, this time making lewd comments about Mary Jane and sex. I had had it! I marched down to the front row where the man was sitting with his friend, leaned into his aisle, and angrily hissed, “This is not MST3K! Be Quiet!!” Endorphines surging, I flounced back up to my seat, noticing Blake and Derek laughing so hard they were crying. I whispered as I shuffled back down the aisle, “Sorry, but I couldn’t take it anymore.” This made them laugh even harder which made me ask, “What?” Finally, when he could breathe, Blake leaned back to me and choked out, “Monica, he’s retarded!” and erupted in peals of laughter again.
Mortification flooded me as the realization of what I had done hit me. As I sank back into the seat, I fought back tears. Quickly, I sat back up and told my snickering friends, “I didn’t know! I didn’t mean to!” to which Blake replied between snorts, “I know, that’s why it’s so funny!!!” The tears won at that point.
Leah returned shortly afterwards, and questioned me as to why I was crying. I explained what happened to her, and of course, she laughed too, and told me that I should have listened to her and not said anything. The movie theater was silent for the rest of the movie, but I was too caught up in my own inner turmoil to appreciate it.
Leaving the theater the moment the credits were over, Leah and I rushed out to the car. Cranking up the car, I looked up and noticed a guy getting into the car in front of me looking at me sheepishly. His companion walked with a limp and his arms were held at odd angles. It was the man I had yelled at and his handler. I threw the car into reverse and squealed out of the parking lot.
Before an hour had passed, I received several laughing phone calls and messages from various friends. Of course, Blake and Derek had immediately called everyone they knew to relay my humiliation. News of my story moved quickly and for a while, at every friendly gathering, the highlight of the evening was a re-telling of my worst oops.
Years passed, and I was able to forget my shame somewhat, until one of my best friends called me up. “I have something to tell you,” she said in her ‘you are not going to believe this’ voice. Not knowing what was going on, I said, “What?” Amanda worked at an assisted living facility for mentally handicapped people, so I was used to her calling me up with stories. “Last night, a group of us were at dinner and began talking about funny things that happen when we take clients (patients) out. I told my story about the guy who peed in the wal-mart magazine rack, and one guy began telling us a story about the time he took a guy to the movie theater.” My heart dropped and astonished, I cried, “NO!!!!” “Oh yes,” came Amanda’s smug reply. “He told us all about some girl who was upset about his client talking in the theater and how embarrassed he was. Since then he hasn’t taken any of the clients to the movie.”
So, with that conversation, my ‘Oops’ came full circle. Moral of the story: be careful before you go correcting people in public.
As the world of Peter Parker unfolded before our eyes, Leah and I were drawn into the movie. Pretty soon, we were watching Peter struggle with his alter-ego, Spiderman. Soon, when Peter began to flash up on screen, the drunken idiot began to yell, “That’s that Spiderman!” “Watch out, Spidy’s gonna get you!” in an Adam Sandler like voice. After the third time, I started to get really agitated. I’m one of those who can’t stand for people to talk during a movie or tv show. The man continued to yell at the screen, making me think I was at home watching an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000. I squirmed in my seat, commented to my sister that we should go say something, and grew increasingly angry. Leah was also becoming frustrated and agitated, and as she has a strong addiction to nicotine, got up to smoke a cigarette, leaving me sitting alone in the theater.
Almost immediately after she left, the drunken idiot started up again, this time making lewd comments about Mary Jane and sex. I had had it! I marched down to the front row where the man was sitting with his friend, leaned into his aisle, and angrily hissed, “This is not MST3K! Be Quiet!!” Endorphines surging, I flounced back up to my seat, noticing Blake and Derek laughing so hard they were crying. I whispered as I shuffled back down the aisle, “Sorry, but I couldn’t take it anymore.” This made them laugh even harder which made me ask, “What?” Finally, when he could breathe, Blake leaned back to me and choked out, “Monica, he’s retarded!” and erupted in peals of laughter again.
Mortification flooded me as the realization of what I had done hit me. As I sank back into the seat, I fought back tears. Quickly, I sat back up and told my snickering friends, “I didn’t know! I didn’t mean to!” to which Blake replied between snorts, “I know, that’s why it’s so funny!!!” The tears won at that point.
Leah returned shortly afterwards, and questioned me as to why I was crying. I explained what happened to her, and of course, she laughed too, and told me that I should have listened to her and not said anything. The movie theater was silent for the rest of the movie, but I was too caught up in my own inner turmoil to appreciate it.
Leaving the theater the moment the credits were over, Leah and I rushed out to the car. Cranking up the car, I looked up and noticed a guy getting into the car in front of me looking at me sheepishly. His companion walked with a limp and his arms were held at odd angles. It was the man I had yelled at and his handler. I threw the car into reverse and squealed out of the parking lot.
Before an hour had passed, I received several laughing phone calls and messages from various friends. Of course, Blake and Derek had immediately called everyone they knew to relay my humiliation. News of my story moved quickly and for a while, at every friendly gathering, the highlight of the evening was a re-telling of my worst oops.
Years passed, and I was able to forget my shame somewhat, until one of my best friends called me up. “I have something to tell you,” she said in her ‘you are not going to believe this’ voice. Not knowing what was going on, I said, “What?” Amanda worked at an assisted living facility for mentally handicapped people, so I was used to her calling me up with stories. “Last night, a group of us were at dinner and began talking about funny things that happen when we take clients (patients) out. I told my story about the guy who peed in the wal-mart magazine rack, and one guy began telling us a story about the time he took a guy to the movie theater.” My heart dropped and astonished, I cried, “NO!!!!” “Oh yes,” came Amanda’s smug reply. “He told us all about some girl who was upset about his client talking in the theater and how embarrassed he was. Since then he hasn’t taken any of the clients to the movie.”
So, with that conversation, my ‘Oops’ came full circle. Moral of the story: be careful before you go correcting people in public.
posted by Mrs. Dyess at
9:11 AM
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