Picking Fights

Preface: If the words "fuck" and "shit" bother you, don't read this.

I've been having the urge to get into fights recently.

This is odd for me, as I'm really sort of a passive person. I've never been in a fight in my whole life. Well, that's not entirely true, if you count me getting the crap kicked out of me without retaliating as a fight, then yeah. But I certainly don't.

Saturday night was the nationwide sneak preview of Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, one show a week before it officially opens next Friday. I'm guessing they did this in an effort to help build positive buzz for the film before the critics rip into it next week.

Regardless, of course I was there, with ticket, extra large popcorn with excessive extra butter, and large cherry Coke, in front of the theatre, an hour before show time.

And, of course, this was not early enough to be the first person there. Nope, there was a whole horde of fat, disgusting, geeks sitting there, along with some obnoxious, cooler-than-thou teenagers. Basically, me five years from now, and me five years ago. Figures.

This was at the AMC20, which has normal, crappy, ground theatre seats for the first few rows, and then has much nicer stadium seating the rest of the theatre. The ideal seats, as I know from experience, are the first row of stadium seats, dead center.

So this is of course what I go for as we are finally let into the theatre. They are taken. Next best is the second and third rows of stadium seating, obviously. The second row is completely empty except for one extremely large man standing in front of the third seat.

I walk down the aisle to the third seat and say, "excuse me."

To which extremely large, 300 pound man wearing all black says, "This row is taken."

Now, this is ridiculous for a number of reasons. First of which is that saving seats is bullshit. I feel bad saving a seat for my friend who just went to get popcorn. But you can't save an entire row of prime seating at a sneak preview that people waited an hour to get into. It's not just rude; it's far past rude. It's complete utter bastard behavior for which there is absolutely no excuse for. It's subhuman behavior. The sort of thing that gets you put into the deepest, darkest pits of hell.

It's also the type of behavior you could only get away with if you are huge enough to scare the shit out of anyone that might defy you.

Anyway, after his ridiculous "this row is taken" bullshit, and his refusal to step aside, I realized that every second I stood here I was going to get a worse seat, so I just gave him a "fuck you, you dumb whore" look and settled into the fourth row with everyone's favorite Communist bastard, Yuping.

"I should have picked a fight with that guy," I told Yuping.

"He would've killed you."

"True. But you see, me getting into a fight with just some random asshole, that's nothing. But me picking a fight with some guy two feet taller than me, and three times my weight, that's fucking comedy."

I kept running over in my mind how it would have gone. Something like:

"This row is taken."

"I can see that you're really fucking fat, but I don't think you need the whole fucking row, asshole. Now step aside."

"That's real funny kid, now run along before I step on you."

"No, fuck you, you fat, fucking bastard. I'm going to fucking wreck you if you don't fucking step aside and let me sit down in this row."

"I really don't want to hurt you, kid, but you're trying my patience."

"I'm trying your patience! What the fuck is wrong with you, shithead? You can't reserve a whole fucking row of a sneak preview that people have been waiting hours for. It's just not done, you subhuman piece of fucking worm shit."

"Worm shit? All right, that's it..."

Then he'd try to grab me, but I'd grab onto his chubby arm and throw him across the theatre, crazy Kung-Fu bad action movie style.

Or the rest of the movie-going public would have been like, yeah, what a dick! And come to my aid. And then the theatre security would escort him from the building.

Well, more likely, he would tried to shove me out of the row, and due to his massive weight and my lack of weight, I would've flown into the side of the theatre, hit my head on a chair, passed out, and had a concussion.

But, still, it would've been funny.

Also, the movie was good. Go see it, booboo kitty fuck.

Then, the following day, Sunday afternoon, around 1pm, I was comfortably sleeping in my crappy little dorm room when I was awoken to the sound of banging outside my dorm room. I rolled over and attempted to go back to sleep. Then, twenty seconds later, more banging.

I buried my head underneath some pillows and attempted to resume my slumber.

BANG. BANG.

"What the fuckity, fuck fuck fuck is this fucking bullshit." I muttered to myself. I'm not a morning person. After about ten minutes of this I gave up, grabbed my robe, and decided to admit defeat and take a shower. Now, I hate being woken up for no reason. I hate being woken up for a good reason. I basically just hate being woken up.

As I opened the door, looking like shit since I had been hastily woken up by assholes, two stupid shits from hall were playing soccer, and apparently using my door as a goal, or they are just horrible at soccer, I couldn't tell.

"Oh, oh, sorry about that" one of them said, as it was apparent that their little pseudo-sport activity had awakened me, and pissed me off.

I silently gave them my "fuck you, fucking assholes who woke me up" look and continued down the hall to the bathroom.

What I should have done is something like this:

"Oh, oh sorry about that."

"Hey man, no problem, I love soccer as much as the next guy. Hey, pass me the ball."

They would then, in a show of goodwill, pass me the ball.

I would gracefully accept the pass, stop the ball. Bend down, grab the ball, run to the end of the hall to the balcony of our third floor room overlooking the street, and drop kick the ball past the street and far into white plaza.

Then, calmly turn around.

"It's the middle of fucking summer in god damned mother-fucking California. Fucking play outside you stupid fucking shitheads, not in front of MY fucking dorm room when I'm trying to sleep you insensitive fucking bastards."

"And if you ever play Soccer in my fucking hallway again, it'll be you two loud-ass fucking shitheads getting throw off the balcony."

"Do you fucking understand? Do I fucking make myself clear?"

Anyway, I'm not sure where all this anger and aggression is coming from.

But I think I should probably stop drinking coffee in the meantime.