Epic Debacle of the Wizarding World Kind

Thursday night was the premiere of the final installment in the Harry Potter series, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2. Allison, Kevin, Alex and I made plans to see the midnight showing. Now before I proceed any further with telling the tale of Thursday night’s events, I must say that the burden of this calamity lies squarely on the shoulders of Kevin.

The facts are these. I missed seeing the midnight showing of HP7, Part 1 because of a work thing, but the others charged on without me. They saw the movie at the swanky CineBistro which is a movie theater where you can pick your seat, have a fancy dinner and adult beverages. Kevin took issue with having to sit on the second row (probably because they waited until the last minute to purchase their tickets) and having to crane his neck back to see the screen.  It was because of this that Kevin was adamant about not returning to the CineBistro to see HP7, Part 2. Allison and I relented to Kevin which I hope he enjoyed because it will probably be the last time.

Instead, we made plans to see the movie at the Centro Ybor Muvico in Ybor City. We picked this location because, for the most part, no one ever goes to the movies there and the only people who frequent Ybor are people who live in the area or college types, especially hipsters. We figured hipsters may think they’re too cool for HP. We purchased our tickets online for the 12:02am showing and decided that we’d get a late dinner before the movie.

We arrived at Centro Ybor around 9:15pm and pull up to the valet. The valet attendant was the first to inform us that there was no electricity in the Muvico. A mild case of panic set in.

However, we decided that we’d wait it out because there was 3 hours to go before the movie and we were assured by a Muvico employee that Tampa Electric was already on the scene.

We ate dinner and then went back to the theater at 10:15pm to discover that the power was still out. We were reassured by Lisa, who had clearly drawn the short straw as she was the only employee out in front of the movie theater, that Tampa Electric was still working on it. It was then we made a poor choice. We left the theater and went downstairs for ice cream. Unbeknownst to us, there was a horde of people gathering above us where we could not see. From our spot inside the ice cream/coffee shop, it looked like a small peaceful mob was forming, but we couldn’t have been more wrong. At 10:45pm, we left the shop to discover the line in the movie wrapped around the courtyard of Centro Ybor, so to the back of the line we went and stood.  We tried our best to make light of our predicament.

At 11:45pm, the lights inside the Muvico finally came on which caused an eruption of cheers from the gathered crowd. It was 1:00am when we got into the theater and headed for our seats. Now what blows my mind is that people who had stood in line for as much as 4 hours went straight to the concession stand for popcorn and beverages, but not directly in a “Don’t pass GO. Don’t collect $200.” fashion to their seats. Didn’t they make the correlation that at this late hour the movie wouldn’t start before they were in their seats? Guess what? Didn’t. Meanwhile, it is getting later and later and people are getting more and more agitated.  

If you're putting 2 and 2 together, then you know what happens next. Those crackers lost their ever lovin’ minds. Allison and Kevin were the ones to get the best vantage point of the chaos. After sitting in our seats for a time, they went out to get some refreshments. They returned with tales of yelling and the imminent outbreak of fighting. Kevin commented that he wondered if this was anything like Katrina. I assured him that this was probably only like 1/32 of what Katrina was.

Another hour later, the lights in the theater finally dimmed and the previews started. Guess what? No sound. We held out hope that no sound would be limited to the previews, but again, we couldn’t have been more wrong. The movie started and there was still no sound. It was now 2:15am, so we decided to cut our losses and left the theater. Harry Potter was not getting in my brain that night. We were going to try to get refunds, but thought we’d be there for a while since everyone trying to get a refund felt the need to cuss a blue streak at the manager before taking the refund.

So, at 2:15am, we left Centro Ybor with no enjoyment of Harry Potter. Moral of the story kiddos, always overthrow the thoughts and opinions of Kevin.

Bad Kid Magnet

It never fails. No matter where I am or where I position myself, bad kids are attracted to me. Heck, it doesn’t even have to be a bad kid, just a kid in general.  They surround me on all side and they never fail to attack. Sometimes, I can’t get a moment’s peace. Where are these bad kids? Oh, I’ll tell you.

On airplanes:

Be it in assigned seating or open seating, I will attract that bad kid. I’ve never been as unlucky to have to sit next to one, but even in the next row, they are close enough. It’s almost in this instance where the bad kid and I have the same magnet polarity. We attract, but we can’t stick together.  In the bible, it says we will endure tribulations, but God knows I have my limits.

You know what I mean about these airplane bad kids. They talk loud, laugh loud, cry loud and breathe loud. They can’t sit still and bump or kick the back of your seat. Their parent don't do anything because it isn't bothering them. They've built up immunity to it. Sidenote to Parents: Your child is screaming it fool head off because their ears are popping. For goodness sake, give them a piece of gum or candy, then I hope it get in their hair.

To combat, I employ an ABKDK. What’s that, you ask? My Airplane Bad Kid Defense Kit contains one pair of trusty earplugs. There’s no cure for the moving around in the seat and bumping the back of my chair. I’m sure giving children a shot of Jack Daniels is frowned upon.

At the pool:

I was at my complex’s pool, minding my own business, when out of nowhere this little girl doggie paddles right up to me. First time I’ve ever seen her anywhere around the complex, much less this pool and because of that, I knew she had never seen me. Even so, right up to me she comes and latches on to me for dear life like she was drowning, despite her swimmies.

Immediate first thought, “What the wha?” and second thought, “Didn’t your parents teach you about stranger danger?” Granted she was probably 4 or 5, but still. I am that stranger danger. Then of course, we have to make little girl small talk, “What’s your name?”, “What a cute bathing suit you have.”, and blah, blah, blah.

I pretty sure that she had the spiritual gift of discernment because it was only those two question or so before she discern my disinterest in being friends with her, much less sharing pool space with her. Plus, her brother at another area of the pool was throwing a fit about not wanting to wear his swimmies, so dad knew it was time to go. Kudos to him.

At restaurants:

This is the worst. Unless you are at a quick service, you don’t get to pick your seat. For me, it really doesn’t matter. The child could be at the next table or across the restaurant and I will still attract it.

Classic bad kid restaurant scenario: Parents love the place, but there’s nothing for their child to eat. The child spends most of the meal whining about having to eat something they don’t like. Worse yet, the child is bored and has run out of things to entertain them. I have nothing but kudos to the parents who bring video games or a portable DVD player with them to the restaurant. I’m sure there are some who frown on that because they think its anti-social or a bad habit to start your children on, but hear me out. If those things allow you and your family, not to mention me and everyone else around you, to have a peaceful meal, please ask for a table next to an electrical outlet. Charge on! 

The most evil and worst day of the week to enjoy a dinner out: Tuesdays. Most restaurants use this unassuming day of the week to offer Kids Eat Free night. I make sure I have something at the house to eat or avoid eating out at all cost. I’ll starve to death before I go out for a meal on a Tuesday.

Poor Tuesday, you get such a bad rap.

At church:

The house of the Lord should be a reverent, sacred and quiet place. That is why God created Children’s Ministry. I realize that some parents don’t want to be away from their little lambs for an hour or so, but if they can’t sit still, be quiet or you’re not going to have things to keep them occupied, please deposit them in the nursery or children’s church. They are distracting and shushing them is a more annoying noise than your child’s noise. Lock it up.

Other places where I attract bad kids include but are not limited to movies, the mall, sporting events, and of course, Walmart. Once, in a Super Walmart, I heard a child screaming at the top of their lungs from across the store. I could tell it was coming straight for me. I made my purchase and got out of there quick.

It is my lot in life. I have slowly come to terms with attracting bad kids. I’m considering ways to change my polarity. Here’s what I’ve come up with:

1. Have a shirt made that says “Don’t even think about it.” or maybe just “Don’t even.” I saw a shirt on one of my favorite shows, Cougar Town, (don’t judge) that said “Don’t Bother.” I think that one’s good, too.

2. Create a rage buffer. When there is a child in sight, I would erupt in a fit of unholy rage. I could go off on something completely random that would put the child on edge and in turn make them want to be nowhere near me. Granted, I might be hospitalized or worse, jailed, but sometimes the end justifies the means.

3. Options of last resort: have my own child. With my own child, I could focus on them and not the other bad kids. Mind you, my child won’t be bad. I won’t allow it. Famous last words, I know. I’ve already been warned. A lot of things have to fall into place to make this one happen. I mean, there’s the small complication for not having a husband. Oh, the details.

Despite any choice, I’m sure there really isn’t anything I can do about it. I know they plot against me. I just wish they’d forward me their meeting minutes.

25 Things about Me: #15

15. I hate with an unholy rage people who do not put shopping carts in the cart corral.

Here are the top 5 things I hate with an unholy rage. I’m only going to list these five because I don’t want to blow all my blog material on this one blog.

1. Auburn

2. V-neck T-shirts

3. Jeff Fisher (totally and completely irrational, I know)

4. Baking (moving up from a lower ranking with a complete demolishment of my goodwill)

5. Not putting shopping carts in a cart corral

As you can see, for me, there are only a few things that are worse than leaving your cart outside the cart corral.  It’s just a common courtesy.

Picture if you will… I come over to your home and borrow a pair of shoes. I wear them around and when I’m finished with the shoes, instead of returning them to your home, I leave them in your front yard. Now picture another 50 pairs of shoes littered all over your yard. Not all at once, but several scattered all over the place every hour on the hour. See how frustrating that would be?  That’s how daunting I liken the prospect of having to corral all those errant carts left outside a cart corral.

You could also look at it this way. With all the carts roaming free throughout the parking lot, they are more likely to bang into your car and leave a dent or take up that valuable up-front parking space. Don’t you value your car or the car of others? Wouldn’t you want your walk to the store to be a short distance? Solution: Carts in cart corral.

I hear you saying to yourself, “Some stores I frequent don’t have a cart corral.” I hear you and would say that you might want to consider shopping at a different store or be prepared to return the cart back to the store yourself. I take that very dilemma into consideration when deciding where I will shop.

The following are my tips to remedy the temptation to leave your cart anywhere except in a cart corral:

1. Buy only what you can carry with your 2 hands. Granted, this will not work for those of you shopping for a large family, unless you plan on making a trip to the store every day. If that’s not going to work for you then maybe consider a family fun day at the grocery store. Hey, the more hands, the less need to take a cart out to your car and leave outside the cart corral.

2. Park close to the corral. This will eliminate a lot of steps for returning the cart to the corral or having to return the cart back to the store.

3. Take advantage of the bag person. Should you have any inkling that you don’t think you can make the extra steps to the cart corral or to return the cart back to the store, then accept that bag person’s offer to help you out to your car. Guess what? They’ll take it back for you.

Another thing I’d like to stress is being a good cart-returning example. When I arrive at a store that uses carts and I spy an errant cart that has been left out of the corral, I first, “bless” the person that left it and then, take it in with me. If I see someone committing the act of leaving an errant cart, my first instinct is to glare at them, but then I will ask if I can take it in for them. I’m always hoping that my actions will inspire people to be more cart-responsible and return the carts to the proper place – the cart corral. Here is how I’m influencing others.

My advice: Avoid the glare. Just do it!

Here are the other revealed 25 things:

1. I was almost born in the vault at the Alabama State Capital.

2. I fear that my appendix will spontaneously burst and I will die.

3. I am allergic to plastic silverware.

4. I have an ungodly love of cake.

5. I thought that my dad was the actor who played Mike Brady on the Brady Bunch.

6. The first lie I remember telling.
7. When I was about 3 or 4, I dreamed I was visited by Tinker Bell.

8.  I always knew I was my Papa’s favorite granddaughter.

9. I love Alfred Hitchcock movies.

10. I am horrible at staying in touch with friends.

11. My Mom and Dad did most of the work on my 4H projects.

12. I had my right hand ripped open by my cousin’s pit bull, Bud.

Honorable Mentions - #13, #16, #19, #22, and #24

14. My thoughts and words are rarely censored.