Monday, June 2, 2008

'Sex and the City' Experience, Tainted

To the creepy, old man who insisted on sitting right next to me during an opening weekend screening of Sex and the City:

You are a sick man.

Not only did you laugh in a sinister, odd way whenever any sign of human flesh was shown on screen, you laughed uproariously at several key, heart-breaking scenes.
One pivotal scene in particular, involving a character using flowers as a weapon, you laughed so hard and so loud that I couldn't hear what the actors and actresses were saying.
The person with whom I went to see the movie was likewise appalled because your sadistic laughter saw no end. You found another scene, where a character's humiliating emotional anguish was written all over her tear-stained face, to be a howling scream. You even pounded your fist on our shared arm rest to drive home the point that you found it so funny.

Nothing ruins a movie quicker than having a man who's well north of 70 come to a film like this, alone, loudly chortling in the seat next to you at the on-screen nakedness -- both emotional and physical -- especially when it's not meant to be funny.


A person who'll need to see the film again and make sure to tell other suspect old men that the seat next to her is taken

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