Earlier in the week, V arranged a weekend trip to the cinema with Candy and Glen. Thus, we find ourselves heading for the Electric. As we wait on Portobello Road early on a stuffy, grey Saturday afternoon, I spot the couple in the distance.
V rolls her eyes. "Late, of course."
"Hello, howdy," says Glen as we meet. "Wassup?"
Glen says 'Wassup?' and wears 'mandals'. What more is there to say?
Candy and V air kiss.
"So!" says Candy. "Did you get the tickets?"
"No. You said you were getting them," says V, pulling her shoulders back.
"Huh, I don't think so," says Candy, regarding me and V as if we're mentally handicapped.
"Look, let's just go in," I suggest, anxious to avoid a repeat of Candy and V's last day at school. From what I hear, it was quite a fight.
Once inside, I go and get the tickets.
"There's good news and bad news," I say as I pass the tickets out to the others. "The good news is that they had some seats left. The bad news is, well...er, let's just see how it goes."
We take our seats in the auditorium. As the adverts play, it begins to fill.
"There seem to be a lot of blonde women with babies here," says Candy as the lights go down.
"Really?" I whisper, trying to sound surprised.
The parents and toddlers screening of the does-what-it-says-on-the-tin David Cronenbourg movie A History of Violence was about as much fun as you'd expect.
My absolute, heartfelt sympathies. *shudder*
Posted by: Jack | Jul 04, 2006 at 11:47