Tonight Julia and I went to see the movie "Gone Baby Gone."
This movie is INTENSE. It is an emotional roller coaster. Julia and I both thought it was a good movie though, worth seeing if you can stomach human pain.
The shift between funny and tragic is quick in the movie and for the first 45 minutes or so I just sat wide mouthed not really sure how to emote how I was feeling in an appropriate manner for a crowded movie theater. After a particularly intense scene I attempted to resume normal breathing when all of a sudden I caught a whiff of the most rank fart I have smelled in a while. Now I am a childcare professional so I am used to smelly diapers, but this smell was just sickening. For the record it was not Julia who farted. In fact I'm not sure if it was a fart at all, I wouldn't be surprised if someone sitting near me had shit their pants. So during this very intense movie after a very painful scene I start laughing. Then I smell the fart/shit again and I start laughing even harder. Then I think about the fact that I am in such an intense movie and the strongest reaction I have had thus far is to laugh at a fart/shit smell. I realized that my laughter was attracting attention, from both Julia and the others sitting around me so I tried to turn it into a cry, to gain sympathy instead of anger. That only made it worse because I was thinking about the fact that I was trying to cry to not sound like I was laughing, and I knew I shouldn't be laughing, and then I did start crying, from laughing so hard.
And then people got shot in the movie so I screamed and shut the hell up.
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3 comments:
I went to see that movie because it was directed by Ben AFFLACK!!! Get it? It's like that commerical with the goose, but I used it with Ben Affleck...oops, I mean AFFLACK! AFFLACK!!!!
I don't go to a movie until I know I have some serious sharts stored up. Your post reminds me why I keep doing it. If I can just make one woman smile because of my shart, my day is complete.
Farts. I know that when I am 80 years old, sitting on a porch somewhere, looking back on a long, tired life... thinking about all the mistakes I made and how things could have been so different... when I think about how much I miss my wife, who will have presumably died a few years before me... when I question what fate lies beyond that rapidly-approaching black abyss... I know that in this moment, I will feel that familiar bubble form in my stomach, I know I will force that bubble downwards, I know that I raise a singular buttcheek ever so slightly and I know that when I hear that rich baritone, I know that it will still make me laugh. And that's why I love farts.
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