i promise that i'll be back to politics and the world at large tomorrow...
but first, a little comic relief - just in case tua is still feeling a bit under the weather.only david lynch could be the impetus for something like this.
will and i had gone to our a little local indy film house years back to catch a showing of mulholland drive.
our buddy arlo was the only one that we could get to go with us. why? i have no idea. who doesn't love lynch and his uncanny ability to get to the dark underbelly of any "normal" scene? (pam - if you hate lynch, save it. i can't take another film heartbreak from you. ;) )
ok, so anyway, we see the film, it's everything i'd expected and more. but i have to pee like nobody's business, so i tell the boys i'll be right back (will was under the impression that lynch leaves some sort of clue to the movie in the credits) - they said they'd meet me out front.
a lady and a man steps out into the aisle a few rows ahead of me. they're talking quietly, as the theatre is still dark and everyone else is still seated, save for the three of us. the guy stops and looks back at the screen as the lady continues on. after a few steps, i realise that she's still talking to her friend, only the friend isn't right behind her, i'am.
i gently tap her on the shoulder and half whisper (since it was very quiet in there still), "i'm not who you think i'am." i SERIOUSLY didn't mean for it to come out that way it did. and on top of my poor word choice, i have a fairly raspy deepish voice that only gets raspier and deeperish if i'm quiet for the length of a film. so it really sounded like i was some sort of swamp thang, sneaking up from behind to render her immobile and to eat her brains. my voice even surprised me.
so this lady swings around and starts wildly swatting in my general direction! AND SCREAMING! full on, top of the lungs, SCREAMING:
WOOOOO-AAAAAAH!
WOOOOO-AAAAAH!
WOOOOOO-AAAAAAAH!
i don't know what to do. i start laughing so hard that i can barely speak, all the while holding my hands out as if to comfort her, saying over and over, "i'm not scary! i'm not scary! i promise! i just wanted to tell you that your friend had stopped back there and that i wasn't him!"
WOOOOO-AAAAAAH!
WOOOOO-AAAAAH!
WOOOOOO-AAAAAAAH!
she keeps on screaming and flailing. i turn briefly to check out the theatre, and every head is turned our direction, though i can barely make out faces in the dark. which, of course, you guessed it, makes me laugh even harder.
WOOOOO-AAAAAAH!
WOOOOO-AAAAAH!
WOOOOOO-AAAAAAAH!
i think, "light! light! we need light!"
i run to the door to the lobby and push it open, so that she'd see that i was only some scrawny hippy-looking chic and not some flesh eating zombie.
and i shit you not, when i turn around, the beam of light from the lobby is perfectly illuminating her and her she stops screaming, but her face is still frozen, mouth wide open, in pure shock and horror.
behind her, the man she is with was doubled over laughing, which sends me into another fit of hysterics. i choke out that i'm sorry i'm laughing, but i can't stop. and that i hadn't meant to have scared the crap out of her. she starts apologising to me, then we all three lose it, all over again.
when the screaming started, down in the front of the theatre, will turns to arlo and says, "i wonder if my wife was in any way involved in that?"
like he had to wonder.
i'm just glad i didn't give her a heart attack.
Labels: david lynch, mulholland drive