Boosting your self-esteem.

Original post: June 28, 2007

So, it's been nearly a week since this incident occured, and it's already been covered by Chris in his blog, but I just had to give my account of the day. Also, I'd like to apologize for the gap in entries, and the fact that the last few tended to lean towards the melodramatic. I'm over things, now.

It was Saturday, and I had to work until 1:00. From there, I had to hightail it to Chris's abode, because the two of us plus Cathy were going to nerd out in Bryn Mawr, PA. A theater there was going to be playing six episodes of the (very) short-lived Fox sci-fi series, Firefly.

Three weeks prior:
Chris: "I found this thing on the internet that says they're showing Firefly on the big screen in PA. You're coming."
Me: "If you say so. I have to work, but I should be free in time. Bank's only open until 1."
Chris: "You're only open until 1."
Me: "Unless you get me drunk enough."

"Present" time: (meaning Saturday)
I wasn't sure how long the ride would be, and the show started at 3:00, so in an effort to save time, I told Chris I was going to change in his car on the way there. Apparently, I ended up changing on the way to Cathy's house, because we still had to pick her up. More time wasted. Oh well. The directions said we'd only need 50 minutes or so to get there, and it was only 1:30. We could risk it.

We all piled in, and the adventure began. Pretty uneventful getting there, except for the car two lengths in front of us at the EZ Pass lane that didn't have an EZ Pass on his car. You'd think that by now people would know how to navigate a toll booth with EZ Pass.

Pulling onto Route 30 East towards Bryn Mawr, I took a quick look at the directions. It said to pull on 30E, like we did, but that we were to end up at 824 Route 30 WEST. Hmmm, curious... To verify if we were going the right direction, I looked which way the numbers were going.

1024
Okay, good.

1026
Uh-oh.

1028
Shit...

"Chris, I think we're going the wrong way."
"We can't be. Directions say this way."
"No matter how much you want your precious Google directions to be right, I don't think they are."

I explained the situation fully, and he told me that we can't be going the wrong way. "Wait until we get into Bryn Mawr," he tells me.

To my astonishment, as soon as we pulled into town, the numbers went back to 1050 and starting decreasing in value. "...Sorry."

We found ourselves at the Bryn Mawr Film Institute, a crappy little theater that appeared to be mostly for college film courses. Pamphlets for upcoming classes hung in dividers on the wall next to posters of movies released within the last year or so. Upon entering the front door, you're immediately met with a hippie coffee shop that serves $4 muffins, as well as other ridiculously priced concoctions. Instead of a ceiling, there was a blue tarp protecting those in the main hallway from rain, snow, acts of God, etc.

Handing the receipt for our tickets (read: printout from Chris's computer) to the guy at the window, we were told to wait by the stairs. Ooh, it'll be shown in some balcony, away from the riff-raff, I thought.

Quite to the contrary, after being led upstairs, we were herded into what amounted to a conference room of sorts, with a widescreen, flat TV hanging from the ceiling on one side, and a slightly worn projector screen on the other. The chairs that we were forced into were placed uncomfortably close together. Uncomfortable all around, actually. High-backed, little padding. They expect us to sit here for six hours in these?!

Now, I'm a mildly attractive guy. I'll admit it. There's a part of me that looks in the mirror and says, "Hey, look at that sexy beast right there." I also know that I probably won't snag myself an Elisha Cuthbert or an Avril Lavigne, but I think I could do pretty well for myself. I'm also at the level where I can pick and choose most of the time. "You? No way," I could tell them. Pretty much average, I'd say. So, when I tell you that I was by far the most attractive person there (Chris and Cathy excluded. You're both hot) you'll know what I mean. I don't think I'd ever seen a more pathetic group of people in my life. And all of them were totally insane.

After sitting down, there were two "people" in front of us: a rotund lady, whom Chris has lovingly named Crazy Awkward Large Laughing Lady (or CALLL for short) and an amazingly ambiguous girl who looked more like Little Pete from The Adventures of Pete and Pete than she did a female. More on CALLL further down. Several of our "comrades" in the other seats were wearing shirts refering to the Browncoats (which is a group of characters in the show that was about to commence). Ambiguous Girl turns to CALLL and asks her something about said Browncoats. "Oh, I'm sure these young people would be better suited to answering that."

Chris and I cocked our eyebrows at each other. Ambiguous Girl mumbles the question to us. "What?" said Chris. "Zubba zubba zubba Browncoats...?" said Ambiguous Girl. "Are you trying to ask us a question?" said Chris. "Could you phrase the question in the form of a question, please?" I said. "Never mind," said Ambiguous Girl, and turned around. Nary a peep came from her while we were there.

As more "people" start to filter in, it's suggested that, instead of newcomers walking over others, everyone should just move down to fill in spots, and newcomers can fill in the end by the door. Claustrophobia kicks in right about now. Small seats, crammed together, surrounded by "people". That equals clenched fists and back spasms for Ian.

Suddenly, there was a flash to my left. One of the guys was actually taking pictures of us at this "event". Great, now there's going to be documented proof of me cavorting with this group of C.H.U.D.s Thanks, Chris.

Finally, they got the show started. "Hooray!" shouted the "people". Something was wrong, however. Everyone looked green. On the screen, not in the room. Apparently, they were using a faulty Red video wire. But, they just let it run. Halfway through the pilot episode (45 minutes, because it was a 2-part pilot) they finally decided to correct their mistake. "If you'll give us a few seconds, we'll switch DVD players." So, they did. Red abounded suddenly on both screens. "Hooray!" shouted the "people".

Anyway, back to CALLL. The reason she is named thusly is because not only would she laugh loudly, but in completely inappropriate spots. The rest of us would laugh together at things, then she would come in whenever the hell she felt like it. Towards the end of the episode, there's a scene where the preacher gets hit in the face with an iron by the lawman that's in their custody (please don't make me explain that). Being there, as she was, one would assume that she had seen the show at least once. Enough to know that it was coming. The scream that she released from her mouth made the whole audience jump. Completely uncalled for.

Speaking of uncalled for, one scene appears near the middle where Zoe is explaining what Reavers are and what they'll do if their ship was caught by said Reavers. "They'll rape us to death, eat our flesh, and sew our skins into their clothing. And if we're very lucky, they'll do it in that order." That is a very humorous line, and I wanted to let out at least a small chuckle of my own. Except for the fact that nobody else laughed. Very serious part of the story: true. Comical line to lighten the mood: also true. "People" taking the scene way too seriously: true as well. Lighten the fuck up, "people"!

Ending scene of the pilot comes to a close, and the lights come up.

"Chris, I need to get out of here."
"Why?"
"I'm very uncomfortable in these seats. We need to leave."
EmCee: "We'll take a ten minute break before the next episode."

Perfect! Several "people" went to use the bathroom to the left, while some worked their way downstairs to use the ones in the lobby. Chris and I waited in the main hallway for Cathy to use said facilities before leaving.

Chris: "You know, we probably could have just watched these on your widescreen TV at your place and saved a lot of aggravation."
Me: "I wholeheartedly agree."

As we walked back to the car, far from the prying ears of the gang of "people" we spent an hour and a half with, I had to say, "Boy, do I ever feel good about myself right now. I may like something that's a little out of the ordinary, but at least I don't look and act like that."

I also decided that it would be the last time I let Chris talk me into going somewhere with him. (see: Why I'll never be driving outside of the Garden State again.)


Random thought of the day:
Why are the food booths at sports arenas called "concession" stands? What exactly are they admitting defeat to?