A Tale of Theaters and Malignant Egos

My wife and I took a break yesterday from our routines and drove to Maumee's Rave Motion Pictures Maumee 18 to see Iron Man 2 (mini-review: a few laughs, lots of stuff blows up, about what you'd expect from a comic-turned-film, and I give it a B-minus). Just off to our side in the theater was a sixty-something couple, and the man was chatting loudly as the film began.

Mr. Talkative continued to keep a running commentary during the film, which normally is a source of annoyance to me. However, the guy was so over the top with his banter that it was almost funny: he read on-screen billboards and newspaper headlines, offered guesses as to what would next happen in the film, and engaged in a lot of "that reminds me of the movie where..."

Now, this encounter probably would not have merited a blog post were it not for what we witnessed upon exiting the theater. The well-dressed man, who looked a bit like Bill O'Reilly of FOX News, wandered away from his female companion, and the woman sat down on a bench for a moment. Mr. Talkative, in an effort to hurry his female companion along, loudly snapped his fingers.


This was not just an effort to get her attention, though: the woman positively jumped and obediently walked right to his side in an almost Pavlovian reaction to the finger snaps.

I was astounded, and I cannot remember the last time I saw a human being exert such public control over another person. I turned to my wife, and luckily she witnessed the same events I just described. This was such a bizarre scene that people would think I was exaggerating when I inevitably recount the tale, and I have a living witness to the egotistical boorishness of Mr. Talkative (perhaps he now deserves to be called "Mr. Jackass" or "Mr. Neanderthal" now).

I felt a bit sorry for the woman, who looked a bit embarrassed at being snapped to attention. However, as both parties were in their sixties, she probably couldn't change the relationship even if she wanted to, and she likely prefers a dysfunctional relationship over being alone.

And Mr. Talkative? You are just a jerk, sir.