Hotdogs, Dinosaurs and Cinematic History
There’s nothing more humbling and pathetic than witnessing a fully grown man sat on a booster seat in the middle of a cinema.
The most damaging thought is: that could have been me.
I’d been out of the movie theatre business for too long. The prospect of sitting next to a gentlemen with a smelly hot dog and paying £9 for a handful of popcorn and a watered-down Cola beverage had driven me away.
However, when cinematic genius in the form of Jurassic Park 4 arrives within a one-mile radius, it is time to leave your personal and strong-minded baggage at the front door.
In this technical age, I naturally purchased my ticket online. No hassle or queues, more time in the pub and less time surrounded by sausages smothered in mustard.
I surveyed the cinematic grid with a touch of class. Middle, towards the back. That’ll do me. A perfect viewing platform to embark on 141 minutes of dinosaur carnage.
It was anything but perfect. In fact, it was horrendous. Since my last visit, the cinema had installed some ghastly gargantuan seats throughout the middle of the complex. And for an extra fiver, you could become consumed in quintessential comfort.
When I saw these posh armchairs online, I let out a laugh. Do you really think I’m paying an extra fiver for a slightly more comfortable seat? Such monies can be spent on important stuff like lager and cashew nuts.
The cinema had the last laugh. As I took my position in my well-planned location, I was directly behind these monstrous mountains of mayhem. My view was restricted to the point I could only see two thirds of a dinosaur. Not cool, bro.
Directly to my right, there was a glimmer of hope. A group of the expensive recliners lay bare. Refusing to take another second of anguish, I took the plunge and relocated.
For the next twenty minutes, every time someone entered the cinema, I was reduced to a nervous, shifty mess. Were the Jurassic Park Police going to rumble my ingenious plan and hand me over to the relevant authorities? Or even worse, was I going to have to live through the painfully awkward ordeal of the rightful owner of Row 12 Seat J forcing me to slump back to my peasant infested row?
My heart skipped a beat throughout the opening proceedings of the film. Luckily, I had risen above some ‘near misses’ and was free to enjoy my luxurious surroundings. After the hour mark, I even looked over and chuckled at the misfortunes of the earthlings that previously occupied my living space.
If you had balls of steel like me, you wouldn’t be a fully grown man shamefully sat on a booster seat all in the name of acquiring a meaningful and neck-straining view of dinosaur cinematic history. Food for thought for next time.
As for me, there probably won’t be a next time. Well, until Jurassic Park 5 comes out…
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