Sunday, December 5, 2010

One Ticket, Please


As I look over the extensive list of titles, there is nothing I want to do more than going to a theater and enjoying a a movie, but I can't. Why not? There is no shortage of showtimes, I have no shortage of free time, there are quite a few theaters within a short driving distance, my car is sitting in the garage with a full tank of gas and no performance issues, and my wallet could easily absorb the costs of that ticket. So, what's stopping me? Or better yet, who's stopping me? Nobody.

I'm not saying that I have decided to make that trip, far from it. What I'm attempting to convey is that the simple lack of something, or someone, is stopping me from going, but that shouldn't make sense. There is no requirement to purchase two tickets, no law saying that a minimum of two bodies need to make up any party. So, how is this lack of something that doesn't seem to be required stop me from enjoying a movie? It's like pancakes on a diner menu. Sure, you could have just one on your plate, but that feels sad and lonely. Once you throw a friend in there, a second pancake, or even a third, it seems like an occasion, a meal, a mini celebration. That's how movie tickets work in my opinion. Handing over a single ticket feels sad, like an admission of your temporary loneliness, almost a miniature call for help. On the other hand, when you hand the usher a short stack of those same tickets, the whole movie experience has manifested itself as an experience, an outing, a special event. Nobody sees any issue with sitting in your living room watching a movie in solitude, but there is something about taking such an act into the public eye that feels uncomfortable.

It seems we have placed a social stigma on presenting such weakness, admitting that it may be possible to find yourself without companionship, even for a short moment. If you've ever gone to a movie alone, or even just sat down alone at a fast food restaurant, you can't help but feel judged. It's a very distinct feeling to sit there. Though you feel alone and try to rush through the event, you absolutely do not feel ignored. It almost feels as if every eye in the place just can't resist locking in on you, at least for a brief moment. It's as if your solitude, the lack of something, a shortage of things at which to stare, has made you more captivating to admire. It's a human affliction, and we can't help but be puzzled by abnormality, no matter how small the difference from the accepted norm. If something is wrong, or off, we can't keep ourselves from noticing, and people are often quick to judge. Even though everyone is, most likely, locking their eyes to the screen, once you sit down, occupying just one seat, you feel as if the entire audience is staring at you, the uncomfortable burn of their gaze. That just makes enjoying the movie an awkward experience, and one which most people unconsciously get to avoid. It's too easy to take for granted the company of others, keeping us from having to sit through a movie alone, but some people don't have that choice.

I'm not saying I haven't gone to a movie alone, but I learned quickly that it's not something I enjoy. It's not just me either; there are even guides on the internet to try to steer people towards a comfortable movie-for-one experience, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I tried it, and I didn't like it. It's just one of those experiences you find yourself having as you move out on your own, but I find myself avoiding it at almost all costs. So, unless I can find someone to occupy that next seat over, it looks like I will be waiting until these flicks come out on DVD. The anticipation of that DVD release makes the wait anything but enjoyable, but, for some reason, I just can't get myself to walk up to that cashier and ask for "one ticket, please!"

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