Farting at the Movies

Many years ago, Fred and I had bought tickets to see Phantom of the Opera.  We had never seen it and were looking forward to finally seeing what all the fuss was about.  It was playing at the then named Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center.  Then my college roommate called and said she was coming for a visit, so we bought one more ticket.  Only problem was it wasn't anywhere near our seats.

Fred was a gentleman and let Gisah and I sit together and took the orphan seat that was closer and way over to the left.  We were further back and over to the right.  None of us were close and were behind the center line.

As we sat down Gisah and I were very excited about the play.  I seem to recall Gisah had seen it before, so I was a bit more excited about it.  The audience was packed.  There were very few empty seats.  Then just before the curtains rose, it happened.

"Oh!"  I crinkled my nose.  Damn.  That was nasty.  My eyes watered.  I looked over at Gisah and she was looking at me.  I shook my head, which in mime theater talk means I didn't do it!  The lights were out and play started.

We fanned our programs and tried to waft it away.  Which worked a little bit.  Then, about five minutes later, it happened again. Then again, five minutes later.

Every five minutes we were hit with a fart from the man sitting beside me who obviously had Delhi Belly, Montezuma's Revenge, or whatever town or person they want to name it after but means that your body is saying YOU SHOULDN'T BE AT A PLAY! You should be on a toilet like a normal human letting that foulness out, not trying to keep it in!

Honestly, it went on and on.  Gisah gagged a little.  I started to feel nauseous.  I couldn't concentrate on the play.  I think there was something about little boats in the water and I was fantasizing about throwing this contaminated dork over the boat, when the lights went up.

We bolted, found Fred and blurted out, "The man next to us is farting!"

I'm sure everyone next to us heard it.  "We cannot stand it." "It is disgusting." "We have to leave." "I'm about to throw up."

"Uh. OK."  Fred is amenable to just about anything but I know he hated to be in the seat by himself. This solution was great.

So we left.

Jam, curled up on the floor of the movie theater.

Last night, we took Jam to The Avengers movie.  We got there a little late, it was about 10 minutes before the movie started and the only good dog seat was in the front row of the stairs by the stairs.  So I took it quickly.  There was a couple sitting in seats 3 and 4.

Fred got up to use the restroom and the lady in seat 4 leaned over and asked, "Do you want us to move over a seat so the dog has more room?"

"Oh, he has plenty of room, between my chair and my husband's.  But thank you for asking." I thought that was sweet. This theater was super clean.  Not one popcorn kernel anywhere.  But there chairs are weirdly spaced so it was hard to scrunch my purse between them.  It kept falling to the floor.  GRRRR.

Fred came back and sat down.  The movie started.  Jam was starting to sleep.  Then some of the action started.  Jam would wake up and watch it.  Then he would move around and try and get comfortable.

Fred leaned over, "Did Jam fart?"

"Oh no he didn't!" I may have done the head bob thing as well.  If there is one thing I can tell you it's where a fart is coming from in a theater.  I was on the end of the aisle.  Jam was with me.  WE WERE NOT FARTING. I have no problem admitting to a fart or assigning blame on Jam when he is farting, but when he isn't, I'm not going to just blame him because he is the only dog in the theater!

Evidently, the girl behind Fred had said in a whisper, "I hate when I go to the movies and there are people farting!"

Fred said the farts were about every 5 minutes for the first part of the movie.  Then the man next to him (Seat 3) got up to go to the restroom (I'm guessing). (Seat 3 is the farter! Says me.)

Jam continued to pop his head up at every roar from the Hulk.  It was like they were talking to each other or rather the Hulk was being annoying and Jam was an old grumpy man who needed to give him a glare.

Finally the movie ended.  We waited until the end for the shawarma scene which was worth it.  Many people smiled at Jam, so I'm guessing that they didn't blame Jam either.

They blamed Fred.

The Artist

Last weekend we went to a movie.  Our first movie in a long time.  We saw The Artist.  It was a silent movie, which might have seen like a bad choice given that we brought Jam with us, but Jam is a pretty quiet dog. Also, we use the quiet spot on all his tags.  If you haven't used them to quiet noisy tags in a place you want your dog to be super quiet, I highly recommend them!

Anyway, turns out that The Artist is actually a fairly loud movie, sound-wise that is.  When we got to the theater I was stopped by a former teacher who wanted to talk about the state of teaching in Florida.  This all started with a comment about Jam and then quickly turned into a biographical work history of her life, which while interesting left me on the sidewalk with Fred and her husband both looking on wondering when she was going to catch a breath so we could all maneuver her gracefully inside the theater and off to her movie.

Finally, she took a breath.  We moved on.  Popcorn was not on the menu as it would have sent Jammers into a frenzy, so we went to find our theater.  There were a few people waiting for the theater to be cleaned so we waited outside.

When it was cleaned we went to our usual dog spot at the top right-hand corner of the theater.

Overhead view of Jam's head and the stairs leading down the aisle.

This way, we aren't really behind anyone or in front of anyone.  We try not to be too bothersome.

Jam sometimes watches the screen.  

 This time we found the floor was very clean, so Jam wasn't able to lick anything up off of the ground.  He was able to settle in pretty quick.

Jam peering out from under the seat.

 I found the movie to be a bit too long.  Fred found it fascinating and wonderful.  Jam and I got restless.

Jam looking restless, I think.

When it was over, we went home and argued over whether it was Oscar worthy.

Jam and I think the dog certainly deserves an Oscar nod.

The Mall and a Movie: Round 3

Destination: Westshore Mall. Timing: lunchtime. We were hoping for an afternoon nap lull to get him through the movie this time as we have been unsuccessful in our previous two attempts to see a movie with Bingo.

This time we had it all planned out. Lunch at Mitchell's. Followed by vigorous mall walking to tire him out. Then a brief bout of staring at the escalator (guide dogs aren't allowed to go on escalators, but they should be brought near them to see them, Bingo was unimpressed). Then on to the movie: Nine (BTW, a more thoroughly joyless and depressing movie, I can't imagine. Please don't go see it. Completely pointless. And heaven forbid, don't take children to see it!). We even had our seats picked out, last row, right corner. We had taped his tags to stop any jingling. We also made sure to have his butt sticking back under the seat and his head poking out by our feet. That way he wasn't sneaking back under the seats licking up stray bits of food, which is very bad for him and just plain gross.


I'm happy to report that Bingo made it through the whole movie! Not one peep from him. That was a real feat for him. The other two movies were plagued with either snores or whines, but he was very quiet the whole way through this one.

We even had a bit of a rock star moment when we were leaving the theater. As we came out, there were a couple of middle school girls and I heard them say, "Oh, that looks like Bingo!" He's a star no matter where he goes. 8-)

He did very well on his mall walking too. This week we have a pep rally on Friday with the Highlander Band playing. I'll take some video of that. Should be fun!