Wednesday, December 12, 2012

I Hate Popcorn Farts

I only get out to the movies about once a month now (instead of 1-2 times a week before E was born). I really cherish that time to myself, in a quiet theater, with no interruptions. I can enjoy a movie, beginning to end, in peace. So, I'm generally pretty happy and not too quick to complain if the movie wasn't great, if there were kids chatting during a key plot point, if the guy sitting directly in front of me was sporting a mohawk. The one and only thing I can't stand are popcorn farts... I'm certain they're from the balding guy behind me, with the faint smirk on his face. His nasty gas quickly melds with the smell of freshly popped popcorn to form a gagging blend of corny rancidness.

I think it's a valid reason to ask for a ticket refund, and I would not hesitate to explain to the cashier my reason for leaving mid-movie.

I don't know why I'm writing about this... but to justify it: The name of the blog isn't "Your Mom is Amazing."

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