Red White and Blue

Happy Independence Day America! I hope this posts finds everyone well.

Our day was pretty eventful. We went to see Brave in 3D this morning. The film is fantastic. Wonderful story and the music is beautiful, along with the animation. The experience, not as fantastic. We went to a theater we normally do not go to. It's a multi-plex in a pretend mall. We went there because we wanted to eat lunch at a near-by restaurant and figured it would be convenient. We should have stayed on our side of town.

The concession stand was dismal and the cashier had to ask me 4 times what drinks we wanted. The ticket taker placed the tickets on our drink tray haphazardly and I am certain they fell en route to the theater. And the theater, it was comparable to a shoe-box. I get that Spiderman is showing on every screen, but I paid for 3D. 3D is not to be enjoyed on a screen that is barely larger than my TV. I sucked it up and sat down in the too-close together chairs and tried to get excited for Little Bug. She had been dying to see this movie.

The pre-film commercials were starting and they sounded like an old-school radio station that wasn't coming in clearly. It was impossible to hear what was being advertised because all you heard was static. Hubby went to the lobby to ask someone to fix it. When he returned, he told us the attendant said it was just a problem with the previews audio and the film would be fine. It wasn't. The static couldn't be heard during loud dialog (thank god for burly Scotsman) but in the scenes with little to no dialogue, all you heard was static. Hubby, again, went to ask for help. He returned to tell us that if the sound did not get better within 30 minutes, we were told to get a refund.

Any of you that have children know that leaving a movie they have been aching to see is not to be done. Little Bug didn't seem to mind all that much and we were half-way done with it. We could suck it up and then perhaps be comp'd some passes. But no sooner had I resolved this in my mind, technicians came in and without telling us, began messing with the sound. For a good 5 minutes of important plot, we were either treated to barely audible dialogue or none at all. Oh, and their conversation. Not an apology was offered or a pausing of the film. It was only us and my parents in the theater but it might as well have been empty with their inconsideration.

The static returned about 20 minutes until the end and Hubby had had enough. He took our tickets and receipt and found a manager and demanded a refund. A portly woman said she would refund it if we left, but he said no. He wanted a refund and we would finish the movie, static and all. She begrudgingly agreed and he returned to the theater to tell us what happened. My parents tickets (the ones placed on the tray) were no where to be found but they had their receipt. We finished the movie, if you call guessing at dialogue finishing, and Little Bug loved it inspite of the sound.

I walked with my mother to the guest services booth and requested a manager. The same portly woman appeared and my mother handed her her receipt and said that she would also like a refund because of the sound. The manager, well, assistant manager said she would do that but she needed the tickets. My mother explained to her that the tickets were gone but here was the receipt. Porkita the Pig wasn't having it though. She explained to us (like we were mentally challenged) that she could only do it with the tickets. It was policy. Not a posted policy, mind you, but a policy. My mother informed her that this was unacceptable and she wanted a refund.

PP: No. Cause that's the policy. I can give you gift cards.
Me: Why would we want gift cards to a theater we are never coming back to?
Mom: No, you can give me a refund.
PP: (With a neck work) Uh uh.
Mom: Do not move your head and neck like that with me. It's rude and ghetto. You need to get your manager here now.

She told us she was the manager. I had to step in.

Me: No, we want the real manger, not the associate director like you're name tag says.
PP: He's not here.
Me: Then call him.
PP: He won't answer. He's driving to get us cups.
Me: Listen, every store in this mall gives customers a refund with the receipt. That's what she has, a receipt.
PP: No but we need the product back.
Me: How can we give you the product back? It was a movie, I can't un-see it.
PP: That's what the tickets are for.
Me: Okay listen you Tubby bitch. I know that your manager isn't here and you've gone mad from a taste of power, but I guarantee that if he was here, he would avoid a scene and just give her her money back.
PP: It's policy ma'am and you don't need to cuss at me.
Me: Which shows me that you have no power because you don't even have the ability to over-ride it.

Mom had already walked away but I couldn't stop. There was much more to the exchange and I can assure you the bitch was not unprovoked. I just can't remember every little word.

PP: You can take your receipt and leave then.
Me: No, what I can do though is drill it into you just how inept and idiotic you're being. It isn't coming from your personal bank account. It came from hers. So you can give her a refund or get someone here who isn't a power-crazed, insecure, fat, bitch who can.
PP: Well, I'm gonna call security then and they'll take care of you.
Me: That's fine. I'll just call Immigration and have them check your status.

I walked away then. The look of terror on her face let me know I won. I didn't care about security. What are they going to do? Chase me down on their segway? Escort me from the building I was already leaving? Are they going to ban me? I have zero reason to ever shop there, unless I need some knock-off football jerseys or food poisoning from the food-court.

By the time we all left, I was fairly certain the woman would be drinking herself to sleep tonight. I shouldn't be proud of that, but sometimes (especially a certain week during the month) you just have to tell a bitch what's up. I'm sure she's the most accomplished member of her family, an assistant manager at a low-rent theater when she didn't even graduate high-school, you know, due to the baby she had at 15. I'm sure she thought she looked good in her two-sizes too small Wet Seal black pants and Walmart brand polo. I'm sure she thought hair glued to her forehead in a curly strand was equally as attractive. And I am positive she took this opportunity of being in charge, while her manager is actually getting his dick sucked by one of the teenage employees in a projection room, as her shot to not take any shit from anyone. But guess what Fatty Fatty 2x4, you took a big ol' steaming pile of my shit.

Everything else went great. Ate at a new (for us) restaurant and had a lovely margarita whilst laughing and eating with my family. Got my HW done while Little Bug took a nap. Even had time to watch a little bit of TV. I know that ruining that woman's 4th is a pretty shitty thing to do. She already has to exist, but now her existence is even more depressing. I should feel bad. Is it wrong that I don't?

I say no. A firm and resounding NO. I exercised my First Amendment right like a truly patriotic American should. Isn't that what our Founding Fathers intended for us? We the people, in order to form a more perfect union and what not? I think yes. I think ol' George Washington would have high-fived me and Thomas Jefferson would have called me a boss.

Or they would be horrified. I still got my rights.

How was you're 4th? Tell me all about it.

And here's a few treats for you're viewing pleasure....with not shitty sound.

He saves children, but not the British children.

Nothing wrong with pride in being an American.

Kelly Clarkson's rendition of the Star Spangled Banner, one of my faves.

The best Budweiser Commercial. Ever.

And lastly, the President Whitmore's speech from Independence Day. Because we all know it, love it, and wish he was our president in real life should this ever happen.