I was so excited this morning to have a chance to take Day to her first real movie at the theater. Marmaduke was playing. She loves her dogs, any dogs, so this was sure to be a hit. I talked it up yesterday. Telling her about the BIG TV and the popcorn. She asked if Caston was going. I told her that he wasn’t. That it was just a mommy day. She agreed to go anyway.
This was a big deal. A first. We got there a little early. Time enough to buy popcorn and lemonade. She was pumped. We settled in our seats about 10 minutes to 10:00. We chatted like pals. We said, “Come on Marmaduke!” The previews started about 15 minutes late. Ok, I’m now a little irritated. Ten minutes is one thing to entertain a two year old. 25 minutes, another thing entirely.
But here we go! Cue the sound. Dim the lights. Giggles and excitement…
Then they play the previews for TRUE GRIT. I kid you not. Just so you know what my baby girl’s first experience in a theater was like, view for yourself. Please, listen through the ears of a child leery of the vacuum because it’s too loud. Watch through the eyes of a toddler who does not even have cable. Whose only experience with violence is Tom and Jerry.
I stupidly sat through the whole thing thinking, “maybe they play previews for the parents at kid movies?” I don’t know, but this just doesn’t seem right. She’s entranced. Flinching at the gun shots. Watching men fall of horses dead. She turns and says (whines), “It hurts my ears.” She’s about to cry. I’m starting to freak out. I can feel the pollution seeping into her innocent head and heart. I’m trying to distract her through it by talking about Marmaduke. “He’s coming up! Just another minute.”
Whew, that’s over. “Here he comes! Here comes Marmaduke!”
Then, another preview (I think). I didn’t stay through to find out. The intro was about a new baby coming home, meeting her sister, family cookout, swimming in the backyard pool. I guess the lack of happy background music and the documentary home video effect was what tipped me off. It was about to get scary. Next scene – the same mom is on the phone with the police. FRANTIC and screaming in her trashed kitchen. Their house has been broken into. I don’t know what else has happened because I grab Day and whisk her out the door. I left my purse, phone, popcorn… all of it. All I could think was to protect her brain from this TRASH!
I didn’t even have time to make it to the counter to complain before the swarm of LIVID mothers come rioting out behind me yelling, ”Turn that movie off! They’re saying the F word. It’s awful! You’re playing the wrong movie!” All I could get out was the old teacher word when all else fails, “INNAPROPRIATE!” That hardly describes it, but the parade of pissed mommas was saying it all for me.
My heart was beating so fast. Who knows what else that theater full of young kids got to witness before they stopped the film. Most mommas left, dragging their kids behind them, demanding refunds. I needed to redeem this experience if at all possible. I know my child. Had we left then, she would have NEVER agreed to try the movies again.
So, after another 10 minutes of getting the right movie on, another 10 of previews, we made it through the credits of Marmaduke. I just couldn’t stomach it. Day was fine at that point. Talking to Marmaduke, laughing. But we'd been there close to an hour, so I lied and told her it was over. I got a refund, took her to lunch, and went home.
I never heard an apology from the staff. I didn’t see anyone reacting in any way sympathetic. They were put out that they had to change the film. The 16 year old girls behind the popcorn counter could barely contain their amusement at the angry mob of mommas. It was disastrous. The whole thing.
And, yes, I see the potential of a funny story later on. MUCH later on. After I’ve recovered. And written a Letter to the Editor or something. This morning brought out Momma Bear in me in a BIG way. And I take my job very seriously.
