Fred grinned at me. “Isn’t it great?!” he almost shouted. “Isn’t it the most perfect house ever?” He held his arms out to his side and turned around, eyes glowing. I stared at him. “You’re… serious?” I glanced around the tiny room. “Come on baby, you’re not funny!” He frowned at me. “You don’t like it?” he said heartbrokenly. “It’s a fucking SHACK!” I yelled. “It’s a fucking SHOTGUN SHACK, and it’s in fucking Minna Green!” (A shotgun house, for those of you not in the know, is a house with the rooms in a straight line. You could stand at the front door and fire a shotgun; the bullet would pass through all the rooms in a shotgun house before exiting through the back door). “What’s wrong with Minna Green?” Fred asked. “You don’t like it?” “It’s three hours from Huntsville! And they’re asking almost $200,000 for this piece of shit! The schools consist of a one-room schoolhouse!” I was in an apoplectic rage. “Oh pleeeease, Bessie!" Fred said frantically. “I just LOVE it, it’s perfect for us, I don’t care HOW far I’d have to drive!” And then I woke up. The number one thought in my mind was I’ll die before I live in fucking Minna Green! Of course, if there IS a Minna Green in Alabama, I have no idea where it is. My very first House Anxiety dream! Oh, and it’s only just begun, how fun this looking for a house thing will be. Speaking of house-related stuff, today at 1:00 was the house inspection, wherein a house inspector (duh!) comes and looks the house over, searching for hidden flaws and structural problems. According to Lynn, the realtor assistant, it was to take about 2 hours. I decided to take the spud to see Shrek. We arrived at the theater with half an hour to spare, and found thousands of children milling about the lobby of the theater, running and screaming and throwing things at each other. I looked at the spud. She looked back. “I don’t think so,” I said. So we went to the other theater – the GOOD theater with Digital Theater Sound and large, plush seats – to see what was playing. This was at 1:25. We had the option of seeing Driven or Moulin Rouge, both of which started at 1:15. Or, I saw, we could go see A Knight’s Tale, which started at 2:00. We opted for A Knight’s Tale. I bought small sodas for the spud and I, and a small popcorn for the spud. $8.55, it was. “You can buy the super-duper extra-special combo, which is a large popcorn, large soda, and a candy for $8.50!” the concession chick said brightly. I looked at her, looked at the spud, who had the light of hope – candy! – in her eyes, and promptly squashed said hope. “No, I don’t think so,” I said. “The soda and popcorn are refillable!” said concession chick. Of COURSE the large soda and large popcorn are refillable. NO ONE ever goes back for the refill, for crying out loud. “NO. THANK. YOU.” I all but snarled. Your loss, concession chick shrugged and threw our sodas and popcorn at us. Being that we were 35 minutes early, we were the first ones in the theater. Until about 10 minutes before showtime, we continued to be the only ones in the theater, leading me to hope no one else would show up. So wrong, I was. Suddenly, people started showing up, and settling in. Right around us, apparently responding to our personal magnetism. It was about two seconds into the first trailer that I knew the hell I would be in for. The trailer was for The Animal, which is mildly amusing. HAWHAWHAWHAWHAWHAW! screamed the woman sitting directly behind me. HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! bellowed the man sitting three seats to my left. “How YOU doin’?” Rob Schneider said onscreen to the goat he was approaching. HAWHAWHAWHAW! HOHOHOHOHOHOHO! Every fucking thing that was the slightest bit reminiscent of humor throughout each and every trailer was subjected to hysterical laughter from both of the idiotic fucking dumbasses. I was subjected to idiocy in stereo, I tell you! The entire “We will rock you” scene at the very beginning of the movie? I swear to god, they were WIPING TEARS AWAY, they were laughing so fucking hard. I was on the verge of getting up and moving seats in hopes of preserving my hearing, when the woman’s companion – I have to assume he was some special companion, I refuse to believe any husband would have stuck around for more than half a movie – finally leaned over to her and said “SHHHH!” At the same time, the man’s teenage daughter said “Dad, be QUIET!”, and for the rest of the movie there were isolated incidents of dumbassery, but it was (mostly) tolerable. On the up side, I liked the movie a lot, and didn’t realize it had been 2 1/2 hours until I saw the clock in the car. Oh, and the home inspection deal that was supposed to take two hours? It took three, and Fred ended up sitting in his Jeep down the street, because – according to our realtor – it’s best if the owner isn’t home during the inspection. We’re afraid they found something really bad! And now we’re waiting to find out. Jeff doesn’t answer his cellphone, and Lynn’s not at the office. Grrr.]]>
06/07/2001