Sunday, July 1, 2012

Bring it on: Violating Implied Socal Contracts regarding seating during Girls Night Movie, aka Chicken Fight: by Allison

Hello, gentle readers!
(Yes, I know I am not Jane Austen, but am a fan -  thanks for Darcy and the dignified snark, JA.)

When we left off, Hardcore Girls dominate Girls Night movie line. 
Evidence:
Hair height
I Am Hardcore Face
No laughing
Not a one Team Magic Mike, or Team Werewolf from True Blood shirt)

This is disappointing.

I like my fan lines to be fun and make me feel better about my place on the Bell Curve of Crazy because although I am in same line, I do not make creepy scrapbooks - although I do not make any scrapbooks so, not best example.

This night, no Happy Crazy, more "I Am Sure I Get A Stripper if I Get In There First."

This makes for a tense, unfun line, boo, and I am holding the "the computer ate my homework" receipt, when some guy announces for anyone who has computer purchased tickets, get in this line.

I wave my random paper (Note: Do not get judgy, I did actually buy tickets , am not currently tea smuggling, and that dude did tell us to go over there, so right now I am following more movie rules than I usually do, I am saint-like, really)
and he is all, yes that is the form, come along.

We go, because at this point, I am still unaware of quite what I am up against and do not realize Intense Fans are Crafty Ladies who probably planted a fake usher to steer us off into bad line for benefit of Intense Crafty Ladies.

Well played, Crafties.

I am stealing that move for Twilight ending movie: Hire a fake usher, lure off half of the line, more prime seating for you.


So we are in new probably fake line, while my awesome party organizer friends are already in the theater saving seats, which is no easy task when dealing with Lady Movies With Certainty of Some Stuff Showing.

We get up to front of our "line" and I wave my pitiful paper at mellow usher (I am telling you, ushers at this theater are totally Allison Approved), and he is all "I'm not sure, you are supposed to have a ticket", acting less mellow, probably because of the level of intensity and ladies with Channing Tatum-sized nets all around.

I say, "That other usher told us to get in this computer ticket line?"
And he is all, "What other line for computer tickets? No line like that."

Well played, Crafty Ladies.

But you did not realize you have just crossed someone who is a lifelong getter-into-movies-under less-than-routine situations.

So I am all " Usher guy, clearly these crazy ladies paid someone to pretend to be usher to pick us off so they get better seats plus I have this piece of paper, see?"

I don't completely show him the paper, because I am now thinking the ripped off part might have been important and the thing I am holding is just a movie poster with numbers on it, but remember, I am not sneaking, I did buy tickets, and have now been tricked by Crafty Ladies who are using Tudor England war strategy they must have learned reading The Other Boleyn Girl.

But this is Mellow Usher, he used to dealing with me anyway, as this is Allison Approved Theater. So he shrugs whatever and we go by and my friend is like, how did you do that? That piece of paper is ridiculous!!
And I said, "Some dude told us to get in this line. I paid for tickets even if this paper is maybe not proof of that entirely, but I am not even smuggling tea, why wouldn't we go in?" Allons-y!

So we go in theater, find awesome friends in back row, with all seats reserved, with the exception of three on the end.

As all of us from various locations and valid or invalid lines filter in, we are one seat short.
Fun organizer friend
 (Note: At this point, we are going to call her Good) Good says to the three ladies in the end seats (Note: Now called Bad), "We do need that seat, I'm sorry."
 And Bad is all, "yeah, RIGHT."

I am filled in on previous discussion between Good and Bad, in which Good is saving seats, the three Bads ask about the end three seats, and Good says "I am saving that one and these others for my friends, I am not completely sure if that one is needed or not, but if we do need it, that seat is taken, ok?" and Bad is all "ok."

First, I know why Good did not just say, no, seat's taken.

Nothing worse than saving a seat for someone who does not arrive and then getting glared at for the entire movie by someone who wanted that seat.

Second, Good clearly offered Bad the seat under conditional terms, that seat did not have clear title, and Bad should not have taken it if Bad did not want to have to deal with relocating if the seat was needed.

In fact, Bad should not have taken the seat at all if Bad were thinking straight and not deranged about anticipated stripper movie, because what if when the seat is needed there aren't other good seats left?

Bad made a poor choice, and is now realizing that and has gone on argumentative offensive.

So what we are dealing with is Good asking for seat that was given under conditional terms to be returned as agreed upon, and Bad refusing, thus violating the social contract they had entered into.

This quickly turns into standoff.

I am close enough to hear this go down, and I know Good is super sweet and see her about to relocate her own self from the party she organized weeks ago, and I cannot let this happen.

So, summoning my vast strategy and negotiation skills (all gleaned from The Art of War, The Prince, The Republic, having three daughters, Glamour magazine, 90210, and my extreme people-watching habit)
I realize we are in a standoff with a time constraint (stripper movie coming soon) and decide my strategy must be Chicken.

Good old fashioned Chicken Fight.

No other way to get Bad out of seat and Good into seat, or at least none I can think of, bribery and blackmail take too long, I can't start writing contracts here, must be Chicken.

Me: "Come on, she said she may need the seat back, you know that. You need to give her the seat back."

Bad: "I like this seat."

Me: "You agreed to give back the seat if she needed it, and she needs it."

Bad: "I want to see this movie and I like this seat."

Me: (internally, ug, this lady is toddler) :"You need to move to a different seat, that is what needs to happen."

Bad: "No."

Me: (Note: At this point, several other friends stand up to come over and help, and I do not want Bad to hear me as this will affect my strategy, so I whisper/hiss to friends "Sit down! There can only be one enemy. She can hate and blame me, but if you all come over here, we become Sorority of Evil and there is no way we are getting that seat. One enemy."

Subnote: At this point I should note, all of the women I am with are in no way members of a Sorority of Evil.

We all met and became friends through various VOLUNTEER organizations, not bitch school.

But I know that if we were all trying to deal with Bad, that's how it would look and also, we don't have much time and I need to focus on Chicken.

And surprisingly, my friends sit back down, and these are self-assured, cool women who do not need to listen to me being bossy and wild-eyed with pretend military strategy, but they do sit.
I must have looked insane) :
"Please move to a different seat. You are not being fair."

Bad: "No."

Me: (internally, ok fine, it is now death match Chicken): level-eyed stare at Bad, minimal blinking, no talking.


Bad: "I'm not moving."

Me: stare

Bad: "Hmpf, FINE." and she stomps up.

Victory!

Chicken War over!

Or is it?????????????????

My friends all start trying to placate Bad and apologize.
One even offers her candy.

So I have to turn around and whisper/hiss "Sit down! Chicken is over! If you get up and act sorry, we are going to lose the Chicken Fight! Everyone in seats!! No talking after Chicken! Polite murmurs while remaining in coveted seats are fine, but do not get up and give her stuff, she is going to think we wronged her and take back the seat!"

Sitting commences, followed by male stripper movie.

And I thought I'd write about that too, but while I realize I am not writing the Great American Novel here, or a novel at all (although possible novel length if I keep it up) I may be writing the longest string of words ever involving glue huffers on roof, police, Intense Fans Who Will Cut You, devious line strategy, Chicken Fight, and strippers.

In that order.

I am sure there have been plenty of things written about the above items in various orders, and now that's all I am going to think about all day.