It’s not as if the “No talking at the movies” rule is new at 52 Novels

It’s not as if the “No talking at the movies” rule is new

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I mentioned here that my wife and I have a had a spate of movie experiences where parents allowed their children to talk throughout the shows.

This time, at World Trade Center yesterday afternoon, it was two adults—whom I figured to be in their late forties or early fifties—who kept talking.

I’m about thirty percent deaf so you hafta figure that if I can hear people then they’re too loud.

When I last wrote about this phenomenon a couple of weeks ago, I failed to say that neither my wife nor I are afraid to shush people or ask them to stop talking, which we did during Superman Returns and Pirates of the Caribbean. My wife did again yesterday.

But what happened after was something new. My wife and I actually spoke to them after the credits rolled.

The woman had some excuse about not being able to use her jaw. We weren’t sure what that had to do with her constant talking. I missed much of what my wife told them, but I know she wasn’t happy. This is what I came in on:

“I can’t move my jaw very much and you can’t just be happy? Instead you’re rude,” said the talking woman. It looked like her jaw was wired shut.

“Then maybe you should have used your jaw less by not talking.” My wife was quick with that one and it stung the woman.

I turned to face the woman. I said, “You talk through a whole movie and you call us rude? The next time you folks want to chat, please just stay home.”

“You could have moved.” Talking man plucked his chance to speak.

I felt the blood rush to my face as the angry vein that snakes down my forehead popped into action. “You could have NOT TALKED!”

The couple walked away. The sad part is that they probably continued to feel they were right, that somewhere inside them they figure it’s okay for them to be rude to others because they paid their money.

My wife and I agreed to let it go. We’d made our point, no matter how harmless it would likely be. The anxiety from confrontation that flooded my body a few minutes before drained from me like water from an untied water balloon.

This morning, my wife and I talked about a plan for next time—because we expect a next time. If shushing movie talkers or asking them to stop doesn’t work, and there’s room to pull it off without disturbing the innocent, we’re going to stand up in front of them.

No… two wrongs don’t make a right. Never has and never will. But I fear it’s the only way to stand up (no pun intended) for ourselves that makes it clear we came to see a movie with the same sense of entitlement the talkers did.

Lemme know what you think.