Spanking The Host…
Hello my most cherished of readers!!
I don’t get out much. I am like one small step away from being the crazy cat lady shut-in that throws water balloons at kids who walk on her lawn.
Not that I would mind that.
But others think I need to be a part of society. I am prepping my water balloons to throw at them…
So, Thursday night, I was trying to fall asleep, and adjusting my pillows to get comfy. When Jasper cat hopped up beside me for some sleepy-time kitty snergles, I actually said the words, “Just let me get comfortable, big boy.” I realized…
I NEEDED TO GET THE HELL OUT OF THE HOUSE.
Immediately. If not sooner.
I remembered that I had agreed to go on a Girl’s Night Out to see the movie The Host for Friday night.
Clearly, they are to blame for what happened at the movies. You can both expect my therapy bill shortly.
So I went. Out. With people. Into society. Weeee.
I was actually really grumpy by the time we got to the movie. I am an old lady and would have traded my ticket for a good night’s sleep. And plus, I had to put on a bra and real pants. I mean, come on.
The movie starts, and I settle in. All is relatively well, the movie isn’t making me want to punch things. (Although one of the other Ladies was flat out appalled by the shittiness of the movie. She was not impressed.)
I can’t give you a review of the movie. All I can remember is what happened about two-thirds of the way through it…
As I sat there watching aliens duke it out and fall in love, I heard a very strange noise to my left.
Now, I was sitting beside the four Ladies of our Ladies Night trip, but right before the movie started, a middle aged gentleman had sat about two seats away from me by himself in our front row.
I thought it was a little strange to see a fella of his age seeing this particular movie by himself at the 11pm showing, but hey, bad movies span age restrictions. Or something.
Back to the noise.
I glanced out of the corner of my eye to see if the guy was okay, because it sounded like he was bouncing his leg nervously like a bunny or something.
Yeah. He was soooooooo not bouncing his fucking leg.
That’s right, kids. The sound I heard was that of this dude pleasuring himself right in the middle of the fucking movie theater, two seats away from me. Very, uh, vigorously…
I froze. Two scenarios flopped into my horrified brain.
1. I would look over, he would see me, and freak out. I mean, there is no way to gracefully approach this situation.
2. The more terrifying option: I would look over, he would see me, and then keep going…
Instead, I sat statue still, glued my eyes right to that damn screen and thanked the gods that I am partially deaf in my left ear. Although, I could still hear…it…
As soon as the movie ended, that guy tore out of his seat like a bat outta hell. Poof, he was gone.
I walked out into the parking lot with my Ladies and got to say a sentence I genuinely assumed I never would have cause to say.
“Hey guys… That guy beside me was wanking during The Host…”
Let it be noted that while I am sure I should have been extremely horrified (I was.), and feel slightly dirty (I do.), the real shock was that after I made the choice to not freaking move and ignore Mr. Biscuit Beater, my next thought was, “Dude. I am so blogging this.”
Writers have very clear priorities.
And I am also going to remind people of this the next time someone tries to make me leave the house…
I’m perfectly content to stay at home with my kitties and jammie pants and Bazinga slippers and cleavage pie.
I hope you all are having absolutely fabulous, public masturbation-free weekends!
Until next time,
Peace, Love, and Hand Sanitizer…