The Best Question

Norm and I sat in the movie theater waiting for Hurt Locker to begin. I looked around anxiously. I was plowing through the box of licorice in record time. I was secretly praying that there would be a technical problem with the movie and that instead of the winner of best picture we would get to see an advance screening of Toy Story 3.

I have a very strict policy on which movies I see. The policy developed after I saw The Piano. First, I decided to never see another movie about the holocaust. I saw Step Mom and decided to never see another movie about cancer or dying from a prolonged illness. After I saw Hotel Rwanda I developed a no-see policy for movies that involve any type of torture, pain, death, or family separation. And on the way home from seeing Marley and Me, I ruled out all movies that make me sad.

I made the exception tonight because I didn't really know what the movie was about. I figured any movie about the war in Iraq was going to violate several of my movie policies. But it was the only movie showing at the right time, it was picture of the year, and I figured Norm would like it.

As I sat uncomfortably in my seat, I had second thoughts about my bold decision. I was mad at myself for going against my movie policy. Those policies are there for a reason I murmured to myself as I viciously tore off a bite of my last red vine.

"Excuse me," said a large man with large forearms that were now occupying our shared arm rest. "Did you say something to me?"

Oh great, I thought as I shook my head no. How did this guy sneak in next to me? I looked around at the sea of empty seats, focusing in on the one in between him and his friend that he purposely left empty. So annoying I thought. And then he used his massive forearms to eat one of the three hot dogs he had in his lap. God was really letting me have it today.

I looked at Norm's watch. 5 more minutes. I was getting more nervous by the second. I started to listen to the conversations of the people around me. Of course the man next to me with his booming voice was all I could hear. In between massive hot dog bites.

"We sure were out late last night," he said to the larger man two seats away.

"Yep," said the larger man as he double dipped a chip in his nacho cheese sauce.

"I am beat today. We didn't get home until after midnight." He said.

"That's tough." The larger man said sympathetically.

'Yep." The man next to me said.

"What time did you have to get up to feed the animals?" asked the larger man with genuine curiosity and concern for both his friend and the animals.

There was my moment. I turned my head the other way and laughed as though my husband said something funny. Norm looked at me but I couldn't even speak to quietly whisper my magical moment.

The room darkened and the previews began. I sat back in my chair and finally relaxed. I no longer cared that movie violated my strict policy. It didn't matter if I hated every minute of the academy award winner for best picture. I just experienced the academy award winner for best question asked in a movie theater - playing exclusively in Morgan Hill.