The little companion
Okay, this is one for the "What the @*#&?!?" file...Jessica has been out of town this weekend and so I got together with my parents for dinner on Friday. We ended up going to see "A Prairie Home Companion*." Even more disturbing than that, though, was the man in the row behind us.
We got up and everyone in the theaters started milling around searching for their popcorn bags and purses when the credits began rolling, and I noticed that my mom had a horried look on her face.
"What's wrong?" I asked her.
"That man behind us was zipping himself up, and he had a not-so-innocent look on his face."
"He probaby just noticed that his fly was down when the lights started coming back on." Give him the benefit of the doubt, I figured. I always had an embarrassed look on my face when that happened. Don't paint the guy into a local Paul Reuben Incident.
Just then he kind of half-sat back down again in his seat, proceeded to lift up his shirt a little, and rebuckled his belt. Then he grabbed a wad of napkins from the seat next to him (sans refreshments) and started towards the door.
Damn.
* BTW, do not pay to see this movie unless you're a fan of the real-life show. It was a warm, respectful homage to the actual radio program and played smartly on the themes of change and the ends of things, but that does not translate into an entertaining movie. Woody Harrelson and John C. Reily do steal the show, though, as two cowboys signing story songs riddled with corny, dirty jokes. Now I have a treasure trove to take back to Jessica's grandpa the next time I see him.
Posted by Mark at 12:43 pm on Sund under genera