This year, I resolve to stop being a tech-tard, and get myself up to speed with 2010. Or 2011. Whatever. Either one is about just as likely. Maybe I should aim for 2005?
I realized just how isolated from the normal, modern world I've become when this weekend, the simple act of going to the movies became a strange, complex process. Its been well over a year since I was last in a movie theater - this is only the second movie Prof and I have gone to see together.
Even though I haven't looked at movie times in ages, I at least knew that you no longer call Movie Phone to find out what time the movies are. I went straight to Fandango. But I googled it. Clearly, typing in Fandango.com was too much for me.
Fandango is much easier than moviephone, I'll give you that. I know where I live. I know what movie theater I want to go to. The movie I want to see is playing. Great. Let's go. Except, Prof says to me "did you get the tickets?"
What do you mean, did I get the tickets? You buy tickets at the movie theater. Duh.
Except, I guess nobody buys tickets at the movie theater anymore. He hands me his card and I manage to figure it out. I mean, I buy concert tickets this way all the time - I don't know why it threw me for such a loop. Oh wait, no, I know why. The total was 10.50 a ticket, PLUS a service charge!
Seriously? I started counting in my head all the other ways we could spend 24 dollars...Three months of netflix, 6 tubs of hummus, cat food (these things are in no way related, just in case you were wondering)...but I reluctantly finished the transaction anyway. A service charge, for a friggin movie?
I eventually shed my disbelief and disdain and made it to the theater, which, because it was Christmas Eve, was completely deserted except for me, Prof, five movie theater employees and two unkempt teenagers (guess we really didn't need to buy tickets online after all). And here is where the inspiration for this post came from: I had no idea what to do with the printed out tickets. None. Do I give them to the people behind the glass window in exchange for a real ticket? Is there some kiosk you scan them at for a real ticket.
I'm consumed by the need for a real ticket.
Luckily, Prof is not a movie moron or tech-tard and steered me in the right direction. A bored teenager ripped our tickets in half and informed us that the movie was running late and we had twenty minutes to kill before we could get into the theater, so they could show us twenty minutes of commercials and previews. Goody. The delay gave me the chance to beat Prof at both air hockey and Ms. Pac Man.
The irony of the game choices is not lost on me. I know 1982 is calling. On my rotary phone. But I don't hear it. I'm too busy listening to my Walkman.
So, the little movie experience was a reality check. I am way out of touch with civilization. Before you know it, I'm going to be wearing Mom jeans and taking pictures with a film camera. Something must be done. Can I schedule an intervention for myself?
(in case you were wondering, the movie that inspired the movie theater experience was True Grit. And it was totally worth it. If all movies were that good, I might go more than once a year.)