A few weeks ago I tried — and failed — to see Bridesmaids with a group of friends. We went on the first Tuesday after it opened and here in Montreal they still follow the time-honored tradition of Cheap Tuesday. As a result, everyone and their dog bought tickets to the seven o'clock show before us and we ended up turning around and going home.
Rather than trying to arrange another social outing, I did what I always do when I really want to see a movie: I go to a matinee alone. I started doing this back when I worked at Starbucks and would often work the 5:00-11:30 a.m. shift. I'd finish work, grab by complimentary coffee, and head down to Tinseltown Mall, a large — and largely empty — shopping center that straddles the boundary between Chinatown and the Downtown Eastside of Vancouver — and has a pretty good movie theater.
I now work for Chapters/Indigo where I often get the 6:00-10:00 a.m. shift restocking shelves before the store opens, and it gives me the same wonderful opportunity to spend my early afternoon alone in a theater. There are never any lines or sold-out shows, and sometimes, when I'm feeling really adventurous, I'll sneak into a second show (for free!). I figure a movie theater is kind of like a museum or art gallery: once you've paid your admission, why not stick around and check out the other exhibits?
Now, I know what you may be thinking. "This girl is a cheap loner who needs to get some friends and a better job!" And you may be right. But the funny thing about this is that what bothers some people the most is not the theater hopping, it's the fact that I go to the movies alone. Not just the matinees either, I'll go to a regular showing by myself. Sometimes it's easier than finding someone who hasn't already seen the movie I want to see, and who is available to watch it at the same time as I am. But mostly I just like to see movies alone.
I ended up calling my coworker on the afternoon I was going to see Bridesmaids. I knew she wasn't working and didn't have plans until that evening, so I sent her a text to see if she wanted to tag along. She responded quickly and we made plans to meet up. We got some slushy coffee-based beverages and had our choice of seats since there was hardly anyone in the theater (always a bonus of going to matinees).
Afterward, as we walked home, it came up casually in conversation that I hadn't contacted her as a replacement movie date, I was in fact planning to see it alone, and at the last minute, I decided to invite a her. I wouldn't say she was appalled, it was more that she'd just never heard of someone doing something like this. Or maybe she did a really good job of hiding her feelings about my weird movie-watching habits and how much they disgust her. Perhaps I'll never know.
The funniest part is the taboo of going to a movie theater alone doesn't seem to have anything to do with the act of watching a movie — no one thinks it's weird to watch a DVD alone, or TV for that matter — it's perfectly acceptable to behave this way in the comfort of your own home. I suppose the same rule applies to eating: we all know people sometimes eat alone, but don't do it at a restaurant, you're making the other groups of diners uncomfortable. That's why they invented lunch counters and takeout for chrissakes.
Well, I don't subscribe to this doctrine, I thoroughly enjoy my solo dates. Sometimes I'll take myself out to dinner AND a movie, and I'll have a great ol' time. No one to argue with over where to eat or what show to see, and no one to whisper annoying commentary in my ear while I'm trying to watch the movie. I'm pretty much my idea of a perfect date. And now I'm pretty sure I understand why I had to transfer to that "alternative enrichment program" back in high school. I believe in therapy, this is what they refer to as a "breakthrough."
No comments:
Post a Comment