‘whatcha gonna do when you get out of jail?’

damn you, NPR!

It’s the same thing with the Melville Charitable Trust. Once I’ve heard it on the radio in the a.m. (not to be confused with Everclear’s unforgettable hit song A.M. Radio) the words keep running through my head for no reason. It’s the little things that set me off (see entry below).

This post is strictly limited to boring-talking, as there are two hours until Seth gets out of work. And there have already been at least two hours since I’ve been done with work.

It’s 50-cent Tuesday at Carriage Place on Bethel. It’s also 3:30 p.m. and I’ve already seen a movie. You, Me & Dupree — totally worth the money. And also, aside from the joy that comes when a somewhat non-large-chested woman is also very sexy (shut up, I know she’s Kate Hudson, but it gives the rest of us hope, okay?) I sort of think I acquired a date during the show.

About 15 minutes into the movie, a truckload of senior citizens came wandering in, which was strange, mainly because I thought I knew something about Owen Wilson’s fan base.
So the ladies and gentlemans came rolling in to watch the 12:30 showing with me, and honestly, they took a very long time to get settled in. Their trainer was having a hard time keeping track of them, and there was no real method to their seating arrangement. One of them got loose and made her way down my row. She started feeling the arm rests, and then my leg for a little bit. She did not acknowledge my attempts to vocalize discomfort.

Finally, she gave up and sat down in the seat beside me.

What’s a girl to do in that situation? There was no one else in the row, and the lady kept feeling my arm throughout the film. Should I have moved? Did she even know I was there? Does God know I blog?

She was cute during the movie, covering her mouth when Owen Wilson was caught “whaling on himself like an animal” in the happy couple’s living room. It was sort of nice after a while to have a companion, I must admit.

At the end of the film, the group gathered in the lobby where the trainer counted them before they got on the bus. Two of them were missing. I’m serious. They thought Tropical Trends might have had something to do with it.

Which is more pathetic? Going to a movie by yourself on 50-cent Tuesday or going with a group of friends who are subject to The Count at the end of the film?

Either way, that’s totally me in a few years I know it. Mae Klingler, is that you out there?

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