Desperately Random: The Creep Factor

An underlying theme in my life is the chance occurrences and encounters that cross my path. Be it strange people, bizzare events, or divine intervention, I am a magnet for the random. It would be easy to let these moments pass and fade into oblivion. Luckily I have managed to cultivate an ability to recognize the situations as they are starting to unfold. This subsequently activates a mental recorder, allowing me to capture details and dialouge that might slip by someone unprepared for such an event. On top of that, I have an unconscious talent for doing the exact wrong things in these situations and turning the banal into a calamity in seconds flat.

This particular story does afford me a slight defense. I was just sitting there. To be fair, my unconscious reponse might have fanned the flames in an attempt to produce such an outcome.

I hate January and February. They are miserable times of the year that are void of any watchable sports or outdoor activities that don't replicate the symptoms of malaria. Aside from getting loaded and firing up my snowblower, I was finding zero joy in my winter existence. In a stroke of inspiration and a motivation to take the fight to January, I hatched The DeMott Winter Movie Festival. I go and see one movie a week from January 1 to February 28. This has a profound effect on my battle against the drudgery of winter. Another upshot is the fact that the naming and notion of the DeMott Winter Movie Festival annoys my wife to no end. Annoying Karen is a preferred activity regardless of season.

I believe this is called a win-win.

The escape that a movie provides makes it the perfect solution to my problem. I sit back with my diet soda and my jujy fruit/popcorn mixture and after 2+ hours, I am reborn to the point that even the miserable Michigan winter can't touch me for a while. An important condition is that I go to the movies by myself. It isn't a necessity. I have advised my wife on more than one instance that I have an extra pass to the DWMF and have selected her to attend. Nonplussed, she almost always declines despite the fact that she hates that I go to movies alone. She has never clarified if she hates that I am participating by myself in an activity that commonly involves other people or that she hates the fact that the other movie goers look with disdain upon her husband as some sketchy, weird, loner. Regardless, I go anyway. I'm protective of this time alone and would prefer not to spend it forecasting the plot to a movie I have never seen and being peppered with my wife's questions and refusal to suspend her disbelief.

"Is she gonna die?"
"What is he doing? Why is he doing that?"
"Oh right! That would never happen."

I consciously choose to go it alone.

Year One Week Two of The DWMF found me with a ticket to The Clint Eastwood movie, "Gran Turino." The weather outside was terrible. Inside provided a different test to my patience. The pimple-faced emo crowd was in a tizzy because of the latest installment of the faux-vampire series, "Twilight." I knew the storm would make me exponentially busy at work and I was edgy enough from that certainty. The theatrical histrionics of some drama club teenage tool wearing eye-makeup and a cape was actively pushing this race car to the red. At first opportunity, I made my way into the empty theater and picked my spot. Half way up and halfway in the aisle, I secured a prime seat for sound and visual quality.

The movie was about five minutes in when my nemesis entered the theater. As my row was completely empty, i correctly figured he would block my unfettered access to the bathroom. My nemesis was alone and my distrust was instantaneous. Despite the fact that I go to movies alone, I am immediately suspicious of a man alone at a movie. I assume he is either part of the raincoat set or planning some sort of killing spree.

I understand the hypocrisy. Accept it and move on.

My nemesis came closer and my discomfort grew. I heard my voice in my head

All right pal, that's close enough. Let's back it up.

I am not a person who is easily surprised. A life time of surprises has allowed me to be prepared for most situations. I was completely unprepared for what happened next.

My nemesis sat in the seat right beside me.

I was so taken aback at first that I stuttered aloud. A confused "uhhh" escaped my lips and my brain immediately went into overdrive

What the fuck is this?
Maybe I know this dude...
I've never seen this person before in my life

I sat there waiting, though I'm not sure for what, a plan that simply wasn't coming to me

He thinks I'm his buddy. That's it. All a big mistake.

I reached under my seat for an imaginary item and made as much noise and ruckus as I could.
The nemesis simply shifted in his seat, unaware or uncaring.
Nope. That's not it

My father always taught me if there was a situation that needed addressing, the best solution is an aggressive one. Fresh out of ideas, I decided on drastic action in the absence of anything else. I turned in my seat and stared at the guy. Our eyes locked for what felt like forever. I leaned in to speak and my antagonist leaned in as well.

"Hey Man."
"Yeah?" His tone conveyed a pleasant,willingness to help. I stared at him for longer than was customary in the hopes that this apparently normal man would realize his incredibly abnormal course of action. When he didn't move, I proceeded on my own charted course.

"What the fuck are you doing?"
He laughed nervously. "What do you mean?"
I restated with proper inflection. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Watching the movie."
"Yeah," I agreed, "but why are you sitting right next to me?"
"I like the middle of the theater"
"No shit? Me too. That's why I got here 20 minutes before the movie started. You gotta move, dude."
"Are you serious?"
"Are you fucking serious? Who sits next to a complete stranger in a half empty theater?"
"I like the middle," he reasonded again. I wasn't having it

My nemesis stood up and moved one seat over. As I sat there wondering how in the hell this stuff happens to me my nemeisis, who is clearly the most clueless human being on the face of the planet leaned back in to speak

"Hey man, can you tell me what I missed?"

Again, I turned in my seat fully facing the man and stared at him. I stared at him until his face changed from expectation to realization. I stared for a good thirty seconds after he looked back to the screen, exaggerating his interest in the movie. I stared until I was certain that my point had been made.