On Sunday night my brother and his lovely wife bravely agreed to watch Olive so Adam and I could celebrate having been together for thirteen years and married for five.
We took forever to get out of the house and then when we finally did make our grand exit- headed for a WILD evening of dinner and a movie- I simply couldn’t stop cackling.
“We’re FREEEEE!” I kept chortling, “WE CAN DO WHATEVER WE WANT! Put the windows down- put the windows down!”
Olive does not like it when the windows are down, you see. But tonight there WAS NO OLIVE! It was JUST US. Adults!
All by ourselves! Finishing sentences, and making eye contact and having no ones bums to wipe but our own! For FOUR hours!
Living the dream I tell you.
This sort of thing, the rolled down windows and adult conversation, the heady freedom of being responsible for wiping your bum and yours alone, these are every day occurrences for Adam but total novelties for me so I was hitting it out of the PARK enthusiasm wise.
And ya damn right I dusted off some heels for the occasion.
(This is not an expression. These are old Nine West peep toe heels that were literally coated in dust because I haven’t worn them in ooooh six years? Ha! Small towns I tell you!)
The course of the evening was dictated by our new chapter in life. We are home owners now you see, which of course, means that precisely 92% of our income is devoted to home improvement stores and mortgage payments, leaving us 8% to cover the little things like utility bills, Etsy, Gus food, more Gus food, and blueberries, which Olive devours at an alarming rate.
Given the sorry state of our bank accounts then, we had decided that this would be a cheap date. And honestly, we were more than okay with this decision because after being together this long we’ve realized that whether it’s a 5-star restaurant or a gas station hot dog, it’s still the same person sitting across from you making boob jokes. When it’s good, it’s good wherever you are. When it’s bad not even The Ritz can save you.
I mean I still lovefancy dinners, but all I am saying is damned if I wasn’t over-the-moon delighted to be walking in the door of that burrito joint on Adam’s arm Sunday night.
So we ate some burritos, analyzed the couples around us, and made plans- big plans! Then we went to see Guardians of the Galaxy and that’s when the magic happened.
I have a few preliminary observations so let’s get this out of the way right now: It’s been an embarrassingly long time since I was in a big city movie theatre. Eight years? Ten?
Some things really shocked me!
First: You can choose your seats now? Seriously? No more peering through the dark trying to spot two together whenever a brightly lit scene flashes on screen? Nope. Say goodbye to that basic business I guess. This is 2014 y’all! We stood there choosing our seats on a touch screen like we were about to board a goddamned airplane. Unreal!
Second: THIRTY SIX DOLLARS. That is how much it cost us to see a movie. THIRTY SIX DOLLARS AND THATS NOT EVEN INCLUDING POPCORN (what do you mean? Of course I got popcorn, what’s the point of going to the movies if you’re not getting popcorn?)
Anyway, the movie portion of our increasingly not-so-cheap date ended up costing us upwards of $50 which, I mean okay but god, seriously?
And then, then the movie wouldn’t start. It kept going to a windows home screen and the theatre kept emitting obnoxious chuckles in unison whenever the next error screen popped up, and then they sent some poor sweet man to apologize, and he got heckled by the crowd, who had suddenly turned from harmless obnoxious chucklers into utter monsters by the injustice – the horror of a twenty-five minute wait for their fifty dollar movie.
Eventually things got started half an hour late and the movie was funny at all the right parts and I may have teared up a bit too- impressive given that the whole quest/adventure/space wars/CGI genre is really not my thing.
Typically I like movies where unconventionally beautiful people wander around heart-shattering locales saying obtuse yet significant things to swelling foreign music. Nothing happens, but you feel reborn by the time the credits roll.
Nonetheless, at one point I looked over at this dude sitting beside me, suffering through my dill- pickle drenched popcorn, laughing and looking ridiculous in his 3D glasses (which he later stole), and I just felt good.
Windows down, heels, burritos, popcorn, and a funny movie- my night was pretty much made! Unbeknownst to Adam however, the best of HIS night was yet to come.
After the movie we exited the theatre, as one does.
We walked out, smushed amidst the throng of fellow movie goers, now made pleasant- placated by the film.
LO! Who should appear at the end of the long, dark corridor but two ushers. There they stood, collecting 3D glasses, handing out pieces of paper and repeating in utterly chastened tones, “So sorry about what happened earlier. So sorry for the inconvenience. So sorry for what happened earlier… ”
The pieces of paper were free movie tickets. Both Adam and I dutifully collected ours, and I honestly don’t think it’s an exaggeration in the slightest when I say that this was by far the high point in not only his evening, but perhaps his entire week.
There is nothing Adam likes more than getting things for free (even things he does not need and has no conceivable use for. See: 3D glasses). One time he got a free roasted chicken from the grocery store and he still talks about it almost six months later. “Remember the time..?”
Our evening drew to a close. We came home, we caught up with our sitters extraordinaire, and then we crawled into bed and slept the deep sleep of married people stuffed with burritos and stale popcorn, still riding the heady thrill of those free tickets.
Happy anniversary, Adam. I think it was one of our best.
What a great post. Your enthusiasm seems to be going strong even though the date night is over 🙂 Happy Anniversary!
Thank you, Kate! This marriage thing isn’t half bad when he’s not driving me absolutely insane!
Happy anniversary! $50 for a movie is INSANE! You are single-handedly supporting the movie industry. Next time you must bring your own popcorn. My mother does that and it’s only slightly embarrassing (and usually stale).