« Her | Main | The Beautiful People »
June 11, 2003
Frying Nemo
I went last night with a few friends to watch the new animated suspense thriller "Finding Nemo." At a strangely appropriate time in the movie bright lights began to flash just outside the lower corners of the screen. For a short second I thought "wow, I've never seen special effects that weren't actually on the screen before." Just then the part of the brain that tells me when to stop suspending my disbelief finally spat a neural message reminding me that those lights look very much like--no--exactly like the lights on top of fire alarms. Just then the movie screen went black and the room was illuminated only by fire lights flashing once for every two seconds. I heard 42 versions of the same conversation run together.
"Is this a fire drill? "
"Are we supposed to leave?"
"What is this, elementary school?"
As the ever slow herd instinct kicked in we filed out of the theater; not by the fire exit, mind you, moving that direction causes immediate blindness from the alarm lights, no exited from the direction we entered. Outside were several fire trucks, the whole Arvada FD if I'm not mistaken, taking their sweet time entering the building. Apparently no danger. They announced that the theatre would be closed for the evening and handed out several rolls of yellow tickets which were supposed to let us in for a free show some other time.
I immediately cued in on the haphazard manner in which the tickets were being handed out and realized that I could set myself up for a summer of free movies with only a small white lie: "...that's right, there were 19 people in my party. Thank you." As I stepped off to get my free tickets I heard a voice whispering in my right ear telling me not to commit such a horrible crime. I looked to my right and saw a wispy ghost like fish floating over my shoulder. It was Nemo. Apparently Nemo had been scorched to death and God had assigned him to be my conscience. Going back to work is going to be rough with a prepubescent handicapped clownfish whispering in my ear. It should be an interesting challenge.
My friend Jenny, true to form, suggested we walk to the bar for some margaritas. They weren't very good.
Posted by james at June 11, 2003 08:46 PM