Independent Writing # 1

Introduction: Last Sunday I went to the movies. I went there with the intention of watching a feature film. I wanted to experience the excellence of cinema. I wanted to buy popcorn, purchase a large drink, and obtain a vast amount of candy. I had it all planned out, and I was ready to go. It is amazing how a simple act of kindness could ruin a beautiful day of cinema. This is an actual story, but I did spice it up a bit. I met a lady that was so annoying that I could have run her over with my car, but not in a bad way.
I should have seen her coming. I should have sensed her terrible vibe, but I didn’t. All I saw was a lady with a weird hat, and when I hold the door, I don’t discriminate; I hold the door for everyone. I should have made an exception.
She came at me at an awkward pace, around 200 SPM (steps per minute). I should have measured the pace, because the average person has a range of 100 to 120 SPM. I was too interested in the feature film I was about to witness.
This lady was on a mission. She held her head high, her SPM was steady, and she didn’t even say “thank you” when I held the door. She didn’t even look me in the eye! Now I have held the door for people who don’t say “thank you,” it is a common happening, but I have never, in all my life, had an encounter with anyone who hasn’t at least taken a glance at my face. Something was wrong, and I was willing to give up a day of cinema to find out.
She purchased her tickets, but I couldn’t hear what she was seeing, so I said to the guy at the counter, “one ticket to whatever that lady was seeing.”
The guy looked at me with a funny face a said, “listen, man, I don’t want any part of it.” He knew I was up to something.
I followed that lady into her theatre, and on the sign it read, Hotel for Dogs. I knew there couldn’t be any movie with such a messed up title, so I figured that she was in cahoots with someone at the theatre.
Much to my surprise, there were actually people there, and there really was a dumb movie about a hotel for dogs. This made me even angrier because that lady stormed into the theater without making eye contact, without saying thank you, all to watch a movie about a boy genius who uses his mechanical engineering skills to build a hotel for dogs. I had to confront her.
“Excuse me, miss?” She looked at me with the same expression that she had before. It didn’t change one bit.
“Pardon my asking, but are you here to do anything else besides watch the movie.”
The lady still didn’t change her expression. In a terribly condescending tone, she said to me, “I don’t know if you realized or not, but this is Hotel for freakin’ Dogs.” Her voice made it sound like a seven-year-old was talking to me.
“I understand that, it is quite remarkable, but you came into the theater in quite a hurry. You also didn’t say thank you.”
The lady still looked at me with the weird face. “This isn’t the little leagues, Small-fry; this is very much the big leagues. It’s Hotel for FREAKIN’ Dogs! They’re not messin’ around here.”
I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. I told that woman, “You need to seek professional help.”
The lady thought she was smart. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.”
“You have most likely heard it many times before, and this is most likely because people such as myself have gotten into situations with you such as this one, and they saw how mentally unstable you really are, and therefore everyone is being honest.”
I left the theater, hopefully never to see her again.