The Big Screen

Everyone loves going to the cinema, don't they? I for one love nothing more than spending an hour or two at the pictures, escaping into my own little world of movie-life. But there have been numerous occasion's when I have entered the dimly lit theatre lately and had quite a different experience...

First of all, there are the heavy breathers. Not that I have any problem with those respiratory challenged, but when I lower myself into the puffy red suede cinema seat to be greeted by the nose-flute playing oaf sat next to me I am not a happy bunny. Do these people not hear themselves? Are they not constantly battling with their airways whilst trying to focus on what was being said on the big screen?

As if that wasnt enough, there's the Armrest Hogs. Yes, the very people that feel it necessary to rest their arms not only on one armrest, but both. Listen here armrest hog, each seat here has two armrests, and every seat here is joined to another. Now, I'm not too good at mathematical equations, but I'm pretty sure that this equates to each seat occupant having to share at least one of these armrests. The Armrest Hog however, he doesn't spare a thought for the poor victims situated beside him, no no, he rest's away, and in my most recent trip, the Armrest Hog had taken it that one step further and had his elbow nestled nicely into my rib cage.

Another thing that quite often disrupts my viewing pleasure at said venue, is rustling. Now, this can be rustling in any form, I'm not too picky. Rustling of sweet bags whilst ravenous sweet-munchers hunt out for that cola bottle they fancy, which just so happens to be at the very bottom of the bag, or popcorn being grabbed in the palm of the hand and shoved into viewers mouths, any form of disruptive noise making is enough to get me tutting at the innocent audience members.

I remember one of my many cinema experiences a few months back, my boyfriend had kindly [after much persuasion on my account] treated me to a cinema outing to watch Shrek Forever After. We got to our local Empire Cinema, and selected our chosen snacks for said film, [mine being a particularly overloaded bowl of Ben & Jerrys - no noise there! No sirree!] entered the auditorium and took our seats. Ahhh I thought to myself as I settled down and enjoyed a rather heaped spoonful of Cookie Dough, in my element as the creamy, gooey mixture chilled my palette, nothing disrurbing me here! Then I heard them. One of the top-rated cinema nightmares, sniggering to themselves. There, perched on the back row were 5 pubescent chavs.

Suddenly, my meddle of Ben & Jerry's wasn't tasting so sweet, I was beginning to see red, and despite their continued street talk I convinced myself that once the film began, they would quieten down and enjoy the movie. Needless to say, I couldn't have been more wrong...

If anything, once the green skinned ogre appeared on screen they were even more irritating, and I learned that they were trying to impress a couple of chavettes, who were also in the same group.

So after 5 hideous minutes of hearing that the film was 'shite' and that Chavette #1 was 'going for a fag' I couldn't take much more, something had to be done, someone had to make a stand!
This someone, was [of course] me. I took a deep inhalation [cue the heavy breather] and uttered, with all my might, "SSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" accompanied by what can only be described as a death stare in their direction.

Ha, I thought to myself, that'll shut them up! My work here is done! People would be applauding me as I exit the cinema, whispering words of thanks and... my trail of thought was rudely interrupted by the laughing of the chavs and chavettes, my plan had failed miserably, and after receiving a few 'shushs' from my boyfriend [I had unintentionally started annoying him with my frequent mutterings, they weren't within hearing distance for his fortunate self] I knew I would have no choice but to admit defeat. If only the person behind wasn't kicking my chair...