This won't hurt a bit...

I did something last night that many of you may not approve of. You make shake your heads at me and pass judgment. I'm prepared for that. And I have my reasons. Last night..... I.. went to a movie theater to see the opening night of a movie. But not just any movie. It was the ultimate pre-quel to Thomas Harris' epic (and at times, halfhearted, no pun intended) series about Hannibal Lecter.

Hannibal Rising opened last night -- and according to MSNBC.com, it was a flick to "avoid at all costs". Now, Ill grant you that it wasn't an Oscar contender, by any stretch, but it kept to the book (for the most part) and the story was a fair (ie: believable) chronicling of the childhood "sucks to be you, pal" moments that shaped him into the creature we all loved to watch suck air through his teeth while making slurping noises. {It was good. It wasn't great, but if you're a fan, it was a far-sight better than "Hannibal" was. You might want to reach into the screen at some points and tell that hot, young French guy who plays the teen-cannibal, to quit it with the "I'm-going-to-eat-you" smirk that he perfected by wearing out his SOTL box-set trying to channel Sir Anthony. And also, is that a scar on your cheek or just a really odd dimple? Read the book first, it makes the movie make more sense. But it was decent. A satisfactory 2 hours. It's not for the non-fan who probably won't appreciate the one-liners meant for the die-hard fan and surprising number of reminiscent wart-hog cameos.}

You might judge me not because of my taste (har, har) in movie genres, but because I chose to brave not only the cold, but the oceans of pre-teen adolescents who are deposited by their fedup parents each Friday evening at the local movie theater to wear their finest of fineries for each other and test the limits of obnoxiousness for $9.50 a showing. I feared that my particular showing would be bursting at the seams with giggling youths who flit between making out and impressing each other by yelling out loud at movie moments, "WOAH, man, like, that was NASTY!" Considering the amount of bloodshed I expected at this particular movie, I was skeptical, to say the least.

Much to my very surprise and, indeed, delight, there were maybe no more than 30 people in the actual movie itself. This may speak to the type of movie it was, the waning interest in the whole They-just-can't-remake-Silence-of-the-Lambs-no-matter-how-hard-they-try series or that other over 18-ers are likely to sacrifice opening-night movie magic to avoid the circus that is a movieplex on Friday night.

We (who else but my trutsy Bestie and I? The Betrothed was slated to join us, but was permitted to be "off the hook" so his time could be better spent landing his little plane at Dulles International Airport (a check off of his “things to do before I die” list) with the big planes) finished the movie without incident. Our troubles began when we waded out of the theater into the lobby, which bore a striking resemblance to a middle school dance gone sorely awry. Our first tip off that we were in no-over18mans land were the rent-a-cops strategically stationed all over the lobby.

We weaved and snaked our way through the hoards of prepubescent teens. In that time I believe that I may have contracted:

• asthma from the sheer amount of bad cologne/eau de TigerBeat that they all appeared to have collectively bathed in before their big night out on the Manasas Regal Cinema.
• a yeast infection from the overwhelming majority of young girls there who felt their best side was best portrayed in jeans that may as well have been painted on them. Dear Lord, buying THE NEXT SIZE is not what’s in these days. That, and being able to sit down without a) rupturing seams b) showing any amount of ass crack c)showcasing your under all-togethers to the world.
• a bad case of being grounded. No phone, no tv and no text messages! Every mommy-wagon parked outside proved to be an additional obstacle for us to make it past in the parking lot.

Don’t get me wrong. There was a time when hanging out at the movie theater provided my teenaged self a window of independence and freedom from the tortures of parents for a few hours. I get that. But did we really challenge the sanity of the adults around us as much? Did we all appear to be as poorly dressed, behaved and generally undereducated as today’s youth? When did MTV stop raising us, give up and send us to foster care under the watchful eye of Hilton & Lohan, Inc.?

Good friends, I have seen our destruction. Go, and be sterilized.