Movie Theater (and other public places) etiquette?

What is it with some people? I just don't get it. I don't understand why people would pay $10, $12, $15 or more, to go into a theater or to a play, and talk (or worse) during the performance. Wouldn't it be so much easier to just stay home and talk? Or text with your friends? Or talk on the phone? Or snore? Why pay money to go to a public place, where other people have paid the same amount of money as you have, and sit and be rude?

Two cases in point....

Case Number one : Last week, I went with Hubby, A.J. and Pickle to see "Tropic Thunder" (I'll get around to reviewing it soon.) We got to the theater plenty early for the 7:30pm-ish show. We sat in our favorite seats, the very last row, so we could avoid the annoyance of having people chatter behind us, or kick our chairs. The theater filled rather quickly, but up until just a few minutes before the show was to start, the two seats directly next to me were vacant. Just as the lights started to dim, I saw two young men climbing the stairs, heading our way. Since the rest of the row was pretty much full, I figured they were eyeing the seats next to me. No problem, I grabbed my purse out of the seat closest to me, and when they asked if the seats were open, I said, "they're all yours." They settled in quickly, both reached into their pockets and turned their cells off, and all was well with the world...right? Not so fast...

Within seconds of them sitting down, I noticed an odor, not a particularly offensive odor (at first) of someone having eaten beans for breakfast, but a strong odor nonetheless. Familiar, pungent, and a bit sour. The smell of a bar at closing time, beer, thick cigarette smoke, and the combination of too many spilled drinks. The boys next to me had been partying that afternoon before heading to the movie. Partying. Hard.

"I'm not going to let it bother me," I told myself. "As long as they are quiet, I can deal with the smell." I stuck my nose a little further down into my popcorn bucket and tried to put it out of my mind. The "quiet" lasted about 15 minutes into the movie, and then it started. Subtle at first, a rhythmical sound, of air flowing in and out, and within minutes it got louder and louder. The dude next to me totally passed out and snoring like a lumber jack! Now, I am a pretty tolerant person, I really am, but come on now! The guy was sawing them off like he was in some kind of old fashioned - crosscut saw competition! It was incredible. Snoring like I've never heard. Especially in a movie theater for goodness sakes. I did not pay $11 to sit and listed to the frat boy beside me win a Lumber Jack Larry prize. I waited...a couple of minutes, until a loud part in the movie. I laughed, LOUD, much louder than I normally would have, just to try to give the guy a jolt. Nothing, not a stir, not a flinch, just more snoring. I waited another minute or two, until a loud explosion scene on the screen, I jumped, and jostled his elbow a bit. Nothing again. Had it not been for the snoring, I would have questioned whether they guy was still alive. I hymned, I hawed, and I got frustrated. I finally reached across the guy, and tapped the arm of his buddy. "Hey, can you wake your friend up?" I asked. He smiled knowingly at me, and grabbed Sleepy's arm, "Dude, wake up, you're snoring..." "Snoring REALLY LOUD" I piped in. And finally he shook himself awake, did a couple of stretches, and stood up to leave. Maybe he thought he'd slept through the whole movie? Naw, he just made a quick trip to the bathroom, and returned with a soda. At least is was awake for most of the remainder of the movie, and he wasn't texting or playing games on his cell phone like several other people were...major pet peeve of mine...

Case Number Two : Last night we went to the Starlight Theater here in San Diego, to see an open air performance of My Fair Lady. It was closing night, and we decided to take a friend to see the show as part of her birthday celebration. Now some of you men might be flinching at the thought of being dragged to see a musical, but Hubby is an extremely good sport, and actually says he enjoys going to see live theater with me. I have always enjoyed live productions, ever since I was the Stage Manager for my High School drama program many, many years ago. We've been to countless productions over the years, and find that most people that are going to these types of shows respect the cast enough to keep quiet during the performance. Not. Last. Night. We were unfortunate enough to be seated just in front of a young man, and three young women. They talked through the opening number, they talked through the first scene, they chitted and chatted through the second and third songs. My friend, seated next to me, leaned forward in her seat and turned nearly completely around and glared, as if to say, "HELLO - can you see the people on the stage talking and singing? Time to shut up!" They got quiet, for about 15 minutes. It was glorious. I hummed along with the songs, quietly, under my breath, "Just you wait Henry Higgins, just you wait..." "The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain..." Ah, yes, this is what I'd come for....the music, the costumes, the gorgeous scenery. The thrill of seeing a live show...

"Hey, do want some popcorn?" I heard a man's voice ask, right in the middle of "I could have danced all night." "No," one of the women answers, "but how about some hot chocolate? Do you thing they have hot chocolate?" Who cares if they have hot chocolate! Watch the play! Aren't you paying attention to the play you paid good money to come and watch? Eliza is falling in love with Professor Higgins, and you are worried about hot chocolate? At a time like this? What is it with you people? "Hey, keep it down!" I snarled, about ready to pounce over my chair. Don't these people understand that they are being SO RUDE to the rest of us? They just smiled as if to say, "geeze, sorry to rain on your little parade lady..." and continued to talk, and talk, and talk..."Sheesh, my kids are better behaved and have way better manners than this bunch," I thought to myself. I could have made a stink, I could have gotten nastier, I could have gotten an usher to ask them to be quiet, I could have reached around and attempted to grab them all by the throat... but I didn't. I just sat there, with the rest of my quiet group, until the intermission, which, thankfully was only a couple of scenes later. The instant the lights came up, we bee-lined for the aisle, and moved our seats, considerably closer to the stage, and far away from the chit-chatters.

I guess I just don't get some people.