I know I could go tell a manager and they would come politely ask them to be quiet, but whenever I've done that in the past, it only stirs the ire of the offending party even more. It's a long walk back to my Geo Tracker after the movie and I don't need Belligerent Brian waiting for me, ready to deliver a blow to my solar plexus. Instead, I just sit there and ignore the bastard.
But this time it will be different, I know it. Harry Potter and the Frickin' Battle of Hogwarts is here and I am too excited and have racked up enough good karma points to believe that this time everything will be coming up Rasic. All the pieces are in place: I've picked a showing that isn't too early to be bombarded with squalling infants or the confused elderly and it isn't too late to be filled with people so stupid and inconsiderate they forget they're not in their living room. Tonight I have come rocking my own Invisibility Cloak to protect me from ruiners of my evening of magic and hi-jinx.
I snag a seat in front of the guard railfoot rests for the purpose of disallowing any awful people from sitting directly in front of me. I also putt my feet up like the world is my La-Z-Boy. I'm clutching my 3D glasses in anticipation, smiling because they kind of look like glasses Harry would wear and that makes me happy. Then the 20 minutes of previews begin (I'm not complaining since there was a teaser for The Dark Knight Rises, which gave me chest pains of joy). The Warner Bros. logo comes flying toward my face and instantly pulls me into the world with which I've been in love for a decade. I get goosebumps. A small tear forms at the corner of an eye. I'm home.
As the camera swoops over Voldemort stealing the Elder Wand from Dumbledore's grave, some guy sitting in the handicapped seats below me bellows, "F*** you, Voldemort." That's OK, he's just excited like me, let him get it all out. About 20 minutes in, the 3D is more and more immersive, keeping me spellbound. As the tension builds before the final battle begins, in a moment of dead silence, the same guy uses his outdoor voice to shout "bitches!" I come close to ratting him out to a manager, but once again I fold, telling myself that this time if I do it, the man is going to turn out to have Tourette's or something and I'll be the one looking like an idiot.
For the next two hours, he punctuates every moment of solemnity and catharsis with an admittedly impressive jolt of vulgarity. As the closing credits roll, the man gets up and walks out past me and I see the grin on his face and the tears on his cheeks. Just like me. And I realize that maybe as long as we continue going places and experiencing things in an environment with strangers, it'll always be weird because most of us are weirdos in strange, not-so-subtle ways. I smile for two wonderful reasons: 1) Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Part 2 was a lovely send off to a (mostly) fantastic series of films and 2) The guy looked pretty crazy so, by keeping quiet, I was just being smart. At least that's what I tell myself at night.
Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Part 2
Starring Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, Emma Watson, Ralph Fiennes, Alan Rickman, Maggie Smith and basically the rest of England.
Directed by David "Danger" Yates