Thursday, April 25, 2019

The Infinity Popcorn War

One out of every three conversations I've had this week has begun with this question: "When are you seeing the new 'Avengers'?"

It hadn't been my intention to see "Avengers: Endgame" on opening weekend. I'm a wait-a-few-weeks-until-the-crowds-die-down kind of person. Actually, I'm more of a wait-a-few-months-until-it's-out-on-DVD-and-the-library-has-it-in-stock kind of person.

I decided today I would make a rare exception for "Endgame." I was worried that by next week I would accidentally read spoilers on the internet, or, worse, purposely read spoilers on the internet. I do not trust myself. I watched "Aquaman" last night — a half-hour in, I picked up my phone and read the entire plot on Wikipedia. (I also needed to make sure that that was Dolph Lundgren with red hair in the movie. It was.)

I booked a ticket for "Avengers" on Fandango and chose my seat: M5. (Who else is seeing the new "Avengers" from M5 this weekend?) Strangely, I also booked a flight today, and I did not have the option to choose my own seat for that. Why is it that I can reserve a seat with a $10 movie ticket but not with a $100 plane ticket? The plane isn't even going to be showing "Avengers." 

I'm seeing "Avengers" solo. I didn't get a ticket for my wife, since she has other plans. Believe me, I wish I was seeing the movie with my wife. She offers me great protection when I'm at the movies, which I discovered when we saw the last "Avengers" film, "Infinity War," together. 

She left the theater just as the credits began to roll; she had to run somewhere. Not even a minute later, I felt a piece of popcorn hit my head. Then another. And then another. 

A large group of kids had been sitting directly behind us during the movie, making noise, doing the things that kids do when they're at the movies. But they apparently decided to wait until I was alone before starting an infinity popcorn war.

What could I do? They were kids. I couldn't fight back with popcorn. I'd already eaten all of the popcorn in my bucket.

What I really wanted to do was some version of this:


Instead, I calmly walked toward the back of the theater, settling into an empty seat so I could continue to watch the credits. 

Before I see "Avengers: Endgame," alone, on opening weekend, I'd like to offer this reminder to all of the kids who have tickets to the same screening: Shane demands your silence (and your best behavior).