Enough already!

Yesterday afternoon, it being a lazy Sunday and all, me and TLATO decided to take in a movie. Together. It took about twenty minutes of polite conversation before we decided upon the latest instalment in the Indiana Jones saga.

I think the last time we saw a movie together was when the Daniel Craig /James Bond flick hit the big screen. So, it's been a while.

Got to our local megaplex and found that to purchase a ticket for the movie, we had to go to the long single file line at the concession stand.

Strike one.

While standing on line, I contemplated getting a drink, a club soda, but when I saw the size of the containers they were offering with what looked suspiciously like handles, I decided to forgo this cool treat. The exorbitant "I-really-had-not-planned-on-refinancing-the-house" price tag was the final straw.

Strike two.

The movie itself was OK, perhaps 6 out of 10. The very first episode, all those years ago, still ranks. In fact, to my mind, the number of sequels that have managed to surpass the original amounts to ... one. Godfather 2. Perhaps two, including Kill Bill 2.

I digress.

After sitting through the advertisements, the trailers and then the movie itself, some time had passed. I have borderline hypertension and take meds for same - including a diuretic. Sitting for that length of time is bound to have an effect on a body - especially with all the raging water in the third act of the movie...

I continue to digress.

At the end of the show, nature called. No surprise. We agreed to meet after taking care of things. Standing there, in the tiled sterile environment of the men's loo relieving myself, there was almost an unfortunate accident (for me - can't speak for the other fellow...). Booming through heretofore 'hidden' speakers in the washroom ceiling came a commercial. A frickin' advertisement for a well-known pizza conglomerate who happened to be in their 40th year of business! I'm sorry, but this completely unexpected invasive interruption was the final straw. I'm using the facilities. I'm taking care of business. In a washroom. Granted, it was a public washroom, but still, can we not expect some respect, a little decorum if you will without my being jolted into some marketer's idea of reality while widdling on the leg of the unsuspecting fellow to my left?

Strike three.