Currently Chasing: Batteries and a fire extinguisher

I went and saw a movie this weekend; The time-traveler’s wife. First of all, most people would much rather see a movie about a time traveler. I mean, who really gives a shit about his wife? Especially when the time traveler is Eric Bana, and he travels…NAKED! Why would I want to see a bunch of scenes without him?

Second of all, how is this movie different from real life men who don’t time travel? Ladies, how many times have you eaten dinner alone while waiting on your man? How many times have you actually been with your man, but mentally he’s not really there anyway? I mean really. My first husband must have been a time traveler because he was always somewhere else…NAKED!

And lastly…there really was no happy ending. If I want to watch a movie about a woman in a relationship with a man who is never around, that ends with him still not around, I’ll just rewind my memories for the past three years and save myself $10.

I arrived early for the movie though because initially I was very excited to see it. I had seating of my choice. I chose a seat high enough up not to have my vision blocked and also sat near the aisle in case I had a case of the bladders. Mostly due to the liter of cola they give you. And by give you, I mean sell to you for a thousand dollars.

So all is well until I start to smell something. It’s not a fart. Oh no. A fart is very distinctive. This smell was far fouler than a passing of gas. This smell lingered and burned your nostrils. This smell was both hot and toxic. I looked around and immediately found the source. A woman was seated behind me. She was by no means thin, and although she was big, I guess it’s always possible to be bigger…however, she took up two seats, and she was sitting with her legs open. There was no way I was going to marinate in that concoction for two hours. So I moved. Immediately.

I did however hear a funny story this weekend, and of course I’ll share.

Like all of us, a friend of mine grew up with middle class parents who were constantly on a budget. There was not money to buy gifts throughout the year, so gifts came twice a year. Once on his birthday, and once at Christmas. He really, really wanted a remote control car. He begged and begged and finally got it for his birthday. The toy came complete with a pair of batteries. Perfect. Only not. He exhausted the batteries in about seven hours and was told he would get more batteries for Christmas. So that car sat on his dresser for months…awaiting new batteries.
It was no surprise that for Christmas that year, there was only one gift under the tree for him. He knew what he was, and was excited to get it. What he didn’t know, was it was not just batteries, but a battery charger as well. With this new gift he would never have to worry about buying new batteries again.

Christmas eve, his family goes to visit with his grandparents. While they are gone, there house burns down. The Christmas gifts were safe, but his remote control car melted to his dresser.

Moral of the story…Don’t visit old people.