Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Date Night

On Monday night, I went out to the movies with a girlfriend. Our Date Night, a little less regular these days than we would like, but something we relish. The time out of the house, the night off from the unpaid portion of our working lives, the good catch-up conversation beforehand. And we saw - aww, sorry for using the same word for a fourth time in one paragraph - the movie "Date Night."

Despite quite liking Tina Fey and Steve Carell, I did not have high hopes for this movie. The few reviews I have read have been, quite simply, that the movie was, in a word, ".....meh." Well, I just might be very easy to please in the movies stakes, because while it was no Avatar on the scale of blockbusters to end all blockbusters, this little movie was very alright by little old me.

My friend and I cackled our way through the movie, probably to the disdain of the only other members of the cinema audience - several sets of early 20-somethings who most likely could not understand just why the opening scene was so hilarious, it was just an ordinary, everyday, mundane, unfunny "whack to the head by a 3 year-old" depiction of married life, wasn't it? Then the heart to heart the couple have in the car, where Claire (Tina Fey) gives her husband the low-down - and he gives it right back - was another scene that caused us to wheeze laughter over the familiar (very not funny when it's inside your four walls) made funny. And the outtakes at the end were so cute. Hilarious. Make sure you stay for those during the credits, if you go see it.

Quite simply, I enjoyed this bit o' over-the-top-action Rom-Com. And I rate it 3 over-easy eggs, sunny-side up, but of course.

But the funniest joke of the night was on moi. I decided to bring home the popcorn I didn't eat so that I could give some to the LGBB the next day. My friend and I wandered back to our cars after the movie finished, sauntering, discussing this and that, taking our time. And that's when I saw it, while we were standing in the highrise car park entrance and saying goodnight... The trail of popcorn I had left. I cringed and then dissolved into uncontrollable giggles, my friend joining me. What had been a quarter of a box-full was now reduced to at least half that again, dropping out of the poorly put-together bottom. A little trail of white popped corn went from my shoes, through the carpark, across the darkened road and as far as my eye could see towards the cinemas. We had walked past packed restaurants and a pub full of raucous young people.... and I had been doing my best Gretel impersonation.

Back at my car (well, Steve's actually, for I had taken his), I laughed even harder when I tried valiantly to retain as much of the left-over popcorn as I could - a mother's efforts know no bounds, it would seem - and could not stop the inertia of my body from flopping into the driver's seat straight after I had emptied most of the remainder of the contents onto it. By accident, of course. In Steve's new car. A virgin to crumbs, spills and popcorn. Whoops.

Back home, giggling once again as I tried to fix the box but only succeeding in tipping out more popped corn onto the passenger seat (d'oh), I carried the box gingerly inside the house. In the morning, I'll tell him about the state of his car, I thought. And next morning, Steve laughed uncontrollably along with me, despite the corn crumbs I'd smooshed with my derriere into his new upholstery, when he stepped onto the front porch and saw the little trail of popcorn.

At least I would be able to find my way home if I got lost. Right?

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