Trials of the moviegoer: Chapter 27

I guess if you go to the movies as often as we do you’re bound to run into anything.

There was the time in Seattle when the guy kept throwing up during “Tupac: Resurrection.” The times (note the use of the plural) when people sitting near us have not only answered their cell phones, but have done so more than once – and, believe it or not, carried on an actual conversation.

You know, as in, “Yeah, I’m in the movies right now. No, it’s nothing very good. Something with Ben Affleck . What’s up with you?”

The other night, though, was something out of an Adam Sandler film. See, we came in early, situated ourselves and, when the movie ( “Kiss Kiss Bang Bang” ) began, we commenced to watch the action. And since the dialogue goes by faster than summer vacation, you have to pay attention to keep up.

Then a guy comes in late, sits down behind us and commences to open a plastic bag full of candy. Only it’s not a baggie. It’s the kind of plastic that crinkles louder than Spam sizzling over an open flame. And he keeps opening it and opening it and opening it, no matter how many times I turn back and glare at him.

So, rather than risk getting in a fistfight with someone who’s obviously touched in the head, we get up an leave – though I can’t resist leaning in and telling the guy how, uh, rude I think he is. Heh-heh.

So we go and sit up in nose-bleed country, which for a 200-seat house isn’t all that far from the screen. But we no sooner get situated when the guy sitting in front of us mumbles something.

OK, no problem. Only then he says something again. And we notice that he’s sitting by himself. He’s talking – to himself! Oh, hell, from one deranged jerk to the next.

We end up moving across the house, in the highest of high seats, at least 40 feet from anyone else. Of course, by this time we’re 10 minutes into the movie and it takes us that long and more to catch up.

Ironic ending: The candyman leaves the theater about five minutes before the end. As for the other guy, as far as I know he’s still sitting there talking to his best – and likely only – friend.