Friday evening, we saw the movie Ray. I know I mentioned that a few days ago, but sit still; this isn't about the movie.
We were sitting in the theater munching on popcorn and sipping drinks waiting for the previews to start. This alone should have alerted us that something wild and crazy might happen, as we're usually too tightfisted to purchase such delights. We tweaked our timing to be juuuuust right with the popcorn container after some initial clumsiness. In no time at all our hands were moving rhythmically and without collision with one another—Hand to bag, hand to mouth. [pause for two counts, repeat]. More often then not, our mouths failed to finish PROJECT: MASTICATION before our popcorn transporters were reloaded and ready to fire. No matter! I know I enjoyed watching Miles stuff his mouth so full his eyes looked buggy; surely that particular enjoyment was mutual. It really saved us from having to speak to one another too...
Popcorn: Dedicated to saving marriages for the last 5,000 years.
So anyway, the scene is set: Miles and Laura seated in the back row of a dimly lit theater, behaving gluttonously. A man walks in and sits in front of us. Not just any man, but a man who looks JUST LIKE Colin Mochrie! All too pathetically, we stared at the back of his baldish head with bugged out eyes, cheeks chipmunk-like in their popcorn fullness. Miles and I looked at one another in that timeless communication of full-mouthed spouses and thousands of messages were exchanged:
-Should I introduce myself?
-Should we offer him popcorn?
-Is your mouth empty enough to talk to him?
-I don't have enough room in my mouth TO CHEW!
-WHAT DO WE DO?
In the end, there was but a single path to take: we emptied our mouths, trashed the rest of the popcorn, and kept quiet. The moment had passed.
