Not-So-Safehouse

Firas and I hadn't been to the movies together, at least with just the two of us, since our second date last May. We decided it was time to break the dry spell and make plans to see a movie. Firas had mentioned wanting to see Safehouse at least 17 times, so I suggested that we see it at the Alamo Drafthouse on Friday night. We bought tickets and were good to go. We even ended up in the very front row, ONCE AGAIN, just as we did on our second date. Those Alamo patrons are just way ahead of the game, getting there 45 minutes before showtime. Lesson learned. We settled into our front row seats, ordered cocktails, and enjoyed Alamo's entertaining music videos and previews. Another couple sidled in beside us, and I should have known we were in trouble when the lady immediately started fanning herself with my menu and commenting on how hot she was. She told me that she just could not cool off but insisted that she was not going through menopause, which I politely laughed at, but wondered if she might be since it was less than 50 degrees outside. I scooted a little closer to Firas as each wave of the menu brought a gust of smoke and patchouli towards my face. Mmmm....

Alamo Drafthouse adamantly stresses that NO TALKING is tolerated during the movie. They give fair warning that you will be asked to leave if they receive complaints about your noise level, use of the cell phone, or rude behavior. I appreciate this. The patchouli lady next to me obviously did not, as she couldn't even manage to be quiet during the warning. But then again, her male friend had ordered them a bottle of red wine, along with a shot of Jameson for her and Jack on the rocks for himself. I knew it was a bad idea before it even happened. How could he not? First glass of wine in, and the lady was toasted. Second glass of wine in, and she was gone. Unfortunately, not physically gone. But she was definitely having an out of body experience. I, however, was in full body mode and aware of the slightly uncomfortable situation going on next to me. Keep in mind that this is DURING a movie. We are not at a nightclub. The lady started slurring a little bit while "whispering" to her male friend, and then proceeded to lean towards me and place her legs over his lap. I quickly leaned in towards Firas, whispering about how bitter I was toward him sitting next to the normal couple. She then started hanging her head low and talking just a little bit more loudly, and I heard the guy ask if she needed to go, as he continuously shushed her. She told him she was fine, as she put her head in his lap and HER BARE FEET PRESSED UP AGAINST MY LEG. No freaking way. I jutted my leg out a bit and switched positions, as she slurred an apology and tried (unsuccesfully) to sit up a little bit. But then, it happened AGAIN. Bare feet on my leg. AAAHHHHH. Not okay. So I told Firas to hand me a piece of paper and pencil, and this was the result:

I'm pretty sure the guy was able to read my frustration and leaned in to tell me that they were going to be leaving. I honestly felt sorry for the guy -- he missed a good movie AND he had to take care of patchouli lady. But then again, he might have reconsidered the shot of Jameson.

Once they were gone, it was smooth sailing. I'd give the movie a B+, mainly because it had Ryan Reynolds and Denzel Washington in it, and date nights with Firas are always a good time. We just know to show up two hours early next time to reserve decent seats.... and please, let me be on the aisle.