I can't think of a Title for this

I went to the cinema the other day. Alone. Yes, your eyes do not deceive you. Me go cinema alone. Alone.

I stood in line at the ticket counter, awaiting my turn to get my ticket. Around me were people in groups of twos and threes and fours and fives, talking and laughing and stuff. And there I was, all by myself. The lone plastic bag slowly drifting down the sea of detritus that is humanity at its best, pulled along by the swift moving current that is life.

The line moved sluggishly along, as some idiots currently having their turn contemplated the difficult choices before them – which movie to watch? All the time they\’ve been standing in line, and now they\’re scratching their heads in wonder and puzzlement. Decisions are difficult – and what is even more difficult is understanding why they could not, during the course of waiting their turn, come to a decision right there instead of waiting for the last possible moment to have their 15 minutes of fame in front of everyone arguing amongst themselves about which movie they wanted to watch.

Idiots.

Finally, belatedly – it was my turn. The guy in charge of the ticket counter, after spending seemingly endless minutes watching the baboons argue amongst themselves, finally casts his eyes upon the most flawless jewel of life, the pinnacle of perfection – me.

\”How may I help you?\” he asks me. A few responses come to mind, especially since I have been waiting behind the aforementioned baboons for quite some time already, with a very uncomfortable wedgie due to my admittedly poor judgement in wearing a thong with a jean skirt. I wondered briefly if I should make this poor soul\’s life a living hell by tearing into him for keeping me, the most wondrous of God\’s creations on this Godforsaken planet, waiting for so long…or if I should bring a ray of joy into the grey of his life by asking him to pick my wedgie for me.

\”Um,\” I say, \”One ticket to ********, please. The next screening.\”

He smiles amiably, and touches the screen before him. \”How many tickets?\” he asks.

\”One,\” I reply, a sinking tone to my voice – because I just know what is coming next.

I have a good view of his face. Pimply, nerdy – he looks like a cross between a chicken and a horse. Don\’t ask me why – it just struck me that way. I can see the puzzlement in his eyes, the creasing of his forehead as his mind tries to make sense of what his ears have just heard. I can almost tell what he\’s thinking. Did I hear her right?

\”How many tickets?\” he asks again. I am kind enough not to make a face at him.

\”One,\” I reply, and give him a bright smile.

He stares at me, disbelief mirrored in his watery chicken eyes. I know what he\’s thinking now. She\’s hot. She\’s very hot. And she\’s alone. Alone? That can\’t be right. She\’s alone?

\”One?\”

\”Yeah. One.\”

He stares at me. I stare back. His hand moves uncertainly over the keypad whatyoumaycallit. He stares at me some more. I stare back, the smile slipping off my face slowly.

\”One.\” He makes it sound like I have just offered to strip for him, and his mouth hasn\’t caught up with the general rejoicing his body is feeling.

\”Yeah.\”

\”O-kayyyyy…\”

I can feel the puzzlement and disbelief intermingled with a certain amount of pity and a large helping of incredulity emanating from his oily pores (because most men sadly neglect skin care). I can feel his gaze following me as I walk away. I don\’t have to turn to see him shake his head, and not with regret at a missed opportunity to ask me out or get my number.

What is it with people? Do I always have to be with someone when I go out? Is it a rule that a girl – okay, a hot girl like me (I am not being immodest – I am being honest. I am hot. No arguments there) must be with someone or some people when I go out to the movies? Must I be hanging off the arm of a hot guy, or be in the midst of girls? Can\’t I go alone?

Everyone needs alone time. I like my alone time to be in the midst of people. I like watching people, observing them. To remain a speck of dust in a whirlwind, in the midst of a crowd but yet all by yourself. Don\’t get me wrong – I\’m not a loner. I\’m not an introvert.

Okay – maybe I am a bit of an introvert, but I am not a loner.

Okay – maybe a bit of a loner.

But what I don\’t get is why people think it\’s weird that I go out alone. I\’ve seen people sitting by themselves in the cinema, munching on popcorn and enjoying the movie with no one by their side. Okay – so maybe they are mostly fat guys with no hope for a date. But there is a group of us who enjoy watching a movie in the darkened cinema pit alone. There\’s a certain thrill to it.

I have a confession to make. I like to sit somewhere behind, and then fling popcorn at the people in front. I don\’t do it often – I do it when there is absolutely no chance of being caught.

I like the anonymity of it. To be in a dark room surrounded by people you don\’t know and have no intention of knowing. Your mind turns inwards, your thoughts sharpen and you observe more things in the darkness than you do in broad daylight.

For me, at least.