It? It. Out? Out.
Those of you who are familiar with Frothygirlz’ resident duct tape goddess and dating guru, Sara, may have noticed that she mentioned little ol’ me in her column last week. For the rest of you, click, read, enjoy. I’ll wait here and amuse myself by playing with this Slinky.
Ooo, Slinky…a spring, a spring, a marvelous thing! Done? Okay…
Yes, people, I have been baited. Baited! And even though she didn’t use French fries dug out from under the seat of my car (Ba-zing! Score one for the fat girl!), I feel compelled to take the bait. So, I give to you, dear readers, the terrifying tale of a young girl, a non-date, a horror film (which was arguably the least horrifying part of this experience), and life imitating art in the worst way.
Now, it behooves me to begin this story by pointing out that I have been a Seinfeld fan for the better part of 20 years (Random Seinfeld Trivia: May 31 marks 20 years since the first episode aired). I think it would be safe to say that I have seen every episode at least twice and I’ve seen most episodes far more times than that. I can throw out quotes and random trivia with the best of ‘em…not that there’s anything wrong with that.
That being said, I can think of several Seinfeldian predicaments that I wouldn’t necessarily fret over finding myself in. Transporting muffin stumps to the dump in an old school bus? Let’s go! Tossing a friend’s ridiculous hairpiece out an open window? Bring it, baldy! Plunking Joe Pepitone at a baseball fantasy camp? Joe Pepitone or not, I own the inside of that plate! I’d even consider inviting my boss over to celebrate Festivus with my family (Random Seinfeld Trivia: Festivus is celebrated on December 23 – also known as my birthday)!
Instead, I got…It. Out.
For those of you not in the Seinfeld know, I’ll give you the briefest of recaps. In Season 5′s “The Stand-In”, Elaine goes on a date with a friend of Jerry’s. The date goes well, until the end, when the date takes ‘it’ out in the middle of pleasant conversation, nothing amorous, totally inappropriate. Now, back to our story…
It started innocently enough. A male friend called and the following deep and meaningful conversation occurred:
He: So, what’s goin’ on?
He: Yeah, same here.
(long silence as I stare blankly out the window and he presumably practices his come hither look in the mirror*)
He: Wanna do something?
Me: Sure. We could go see *insert name of lame Stephen King adaptation here*.
He: Ok. I can drive.
I had no reason to believe that we were anything more than a couple of bored small-town teenagers going to a (really, REALLY) crappy movie in order to escape our mundane lives for an hour or two. It certainly wasn’t a date and it beat the hell out of sitting around the elementary school playground scaring away young children with our brooding surliness (you make your own fun in a small town, people).
It was a pretty typical trip to the movies. Popcorn was purchased. Previews were watched with mildly rapt attention. Popcorn was eaten. It was during one of my dips into the old popcorn bucket that things got really frightening really quickly…
It was a dark and stormy night…as is often the case at some point during a Stephen King flick. I looked up at the screen, then down at the popcorn, when something caught my eye. I looked away! Surely, I was mistaken and hadn’t seen what I thought I’d seen. Thunder cracked, followed by the bright flash of lightning…and there, next to the bucket of popcorn was It. Out.
Ahhhhhhhhhh! Ewwwwwwwwww! Urgh.
This, as I recall, was what went through my head at the time. Seriously, how does one react in such a situation?
I reacted much like Elaine Benes. I looked away, made a horrified face, and planned my escape (which unfortunately, included a car ride home with the offending dude featuring me smashed up against the passenger side door as far away from him as I could get). Also, much like Elaine’s situation, there was absolutely nothing amorous leading up to this *ahem* unveiling (if it had been a date, it would have gone down in history as the least sexy date on record). There was absolutely no impetus for this lurid act. And yet, there it was.
Eh, maybe it needed some air.
* pure speculation here, people…pure speculation