Why do some people act like martyrs when they've actually acted in ways that deserve a kick. Read on…
I went to watch a movie a couple of days back (oh, of course I’ve written about it in the last post ) and was rewarded with a beautiful sight of two guys in there early twenties comfortably sitting in my seat, the very same seats that I had got by coming to the movie hall two hours ago.
(I like to have a good viewing experience when I’m in a theatre - the Dolby speakers need to be equidistant from my ears, to move from the left side of the screen to the right side of the screen my neck should not have to twist more that 20 degrees, the back should be the kind where I can lean back to that optimum lazy angle - and why not? With the kind of money theatres charge nowadays, that’s the least they can do.)
Another reason for coming early to get the tickets, and then going back home was that I was taking out my parents and granny for the movie. They go out to watch movies so rarely now that I didn’t want to risk a disappointment. [ Have you noticed how excited your parents get about going for a movie? My Gran changed her clothes twice before going!]).
When I told the two kids (politely) that they were in my seat they started scrambling around for their tickets.
He: “Oh, but it’s the same row , it says D.. (scramble scramble)”
Me (seething and in my head) : “ Yes, you idiot and there’s a number after the D. Is this the #@#$ ing first time you’re watching a movie in a theatre? You can’t sit in any seat with a D before it. And if you are such an imbecile, at least keep the tickets in your hand and not down in the deepest crevice of your crotch-hugging skin-tight jeans!”
He: “(scramble scramble) Here it is. It says… oh what seats are these? Eh…”
Me (still in my head): “ You absolutely mentally deficient moron, you’re SITTING there. Its not your drawing room that you come and plonk yourself on any sofa – read the number before sitting. Or did you miss that class in primary school?”
Me (aloud with gritted teeth) : “These are my seats. Go”
He (Stunned and hurt): “Relax, koi baat nahin.” (relax, its all right). Jeez, we’re moving…
Me (In my head, and oh hell SO seething) : “Yes, I am the one who’s creating a fuss! You’re sitting in my seat – which you wouldn’t have been doing if you had a bare minimum IQ and a semblance of human consideration – and you have the audacity to tell me that its all right like I’M the idiot who’s acting like a selfish ape? It bloody well isn’t all right you nincompoop – and you’re supposed to apologize for your sheer stupidity. Aaarrgghh whatever man, just go and let my family sit down on their legitimate seats.”
Corollary: The two gentlemen, as I was expecting, were the loudest through out the movie, screaming and laughing at pathetic jokes, expounding theories about what’s going to happen next and talking boorishly on their cell phones during the movie.
Trip back to Bangalore – in the airplane.
A ‘dude’ is sitting behind me on the window seat. Another guy comes up, checks his ticket, puts his hand baggage in the overhead bin and then turned to the dude.
“Excuse me, you’re in my seat”
Dude: (Full faux American accent – probably watching too much Star World) “Does it matter? You can sit on the aisle”
Guy: “Er..yes, it matters. I want the window seat”
Dude (Exasperated expression): “oh well, I’ll move…hmmppff”
Yes, dear dude, you’ll move. AND you’re not doing any great favour to the guy. YOU were sitting in the wrong seat- quite deliberately. If it “doesn’t matter” (imagine fake American accent here) then why did you sit on the window seat instead of the aisle seat? (I love sitting on the window seat when I’m going to Delhi at night- I find it simply beautiful, like a smattering of jewels or stars intertwining in concentric circles ~ choke ~ Don’t remind me of Delhi right now..sniff…) The guy came to the airport early (it was a very early in the morning flight) and took a seat that he wanted. And dude just tries to commandeer it without any logic. If you want the seat of your choice- at least bother to come early – and for heavens sake DON'T act like a martyr when you should actually get a knock on your head!