Pop, popcorn and a pillow by Lori Welbourne

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Ask me what kind of food I’ll eat and I’m open to almost anything, but ask me what kind of movie I’ll watch and suddenly I become picky.

“We used to go to action movies all the time,” my husband said recently while reviewing the current theatre listings. “Now you’re only into the chick flicks.”

Well, if you call dramas, comedies, documentaries and foreign films “chick flicks,” I guess that’s true. And he’s absolutely right that we used to go to action movies way back when and now I never want to.

Even if the movie is starring my favourite actors I won’t be interested if it’s full of car chases or violence. But I realize that I was never interested in that particular genre; I was just less selective about how I spent my free time and watched almost anything if I could call a big tub of buttered popcorn dinner.

What happened to change that? I believe it was becoming a parent.

“I don’t want to go to the trouble and expense to see a movie I have zero interest in,” I’ve explained. “You see the shoot ’em ups with one of your bro friends and I’ll see the rom-coms with one of my girlfriends.” But guess what? Nine times out of ten he wants to see the romantic comedy too.

So off we’ll go to another chick-flick that I invariably fall asleep in immediately after polishing off my unhealthy snacks, which leaves my husband trying to keep me awake so I don’t miss anything, or trying to keep me awake so I can regret the bad movie I selected.

But, to me, a bad comedy is still better than a good action, just like a bad drama is still better than a good horror. Normal people with less discriminating tastes would disagree.

“Why don’t you choose the movie one time and let him choose the next time?” our pal suggested one day.

“Or… “I said. “You two could see the boy movies together and I’ll do anything else.”

But it’s rare for my husband to go to the movies with his guy friends, and if he does, they’ll always sit with an empty seat between them. If I sat a seat away from my girlfriends they’d ask me why I was doing that. And one of my friends would ask me loudly.

“Shhh… “I whispered to Jen at the last movie we went to after she erupted into an obnoxious cackle during a quiet, serious scene. “People are giving us the evil eye.”

“Oh who cares?” she said chomping on her ice. “This movie’s lame.”

So even a bad drama with a loud friend is better than a good action with a quiet husband. Of course, the down side of seeing a movie with someone that noisy is not being able to sleep.

“Were you just snoring?!” she asked elbowing my shoulder when I began to nod off.  And then her obnoxious cackling returned.

To watch my video about theatre etiquette please visit LoriWelbourne.com 


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