On one of these said occasions, before my hair started falling out, I decided to skip out and sneak off to my secret hideaway, the Megaplex Theater at Gateway. Crap, now I have to kill you. I'll get to that later, after the laundry. I'd say you're safe for about 6 years. Anyway, I went to a great movie this day called Hairspray. It's just this little unknown movie, so not really anyone was there. Well, I walked out singing and dancing, like I normally do, and decided what they Hay! I'm gonna go to another movie. I walked up to the ticket counter and said, "One ticket for Stardust my fine friend, and snap to it!"
"Aren't you the lady who just watched Hairspray?"
Stupid, observant ticket giver guy.
"That's awesome. I love going to movies all day too."
I took one look at his pale, pimpled, greasy face that would be the envy of any fast food french fry dipper, grabbed my ticket, watched the movie, and sneaked (snuck?) out the back way.
I haven't been to the movies alone since. This post is for that pimpled face, observant ticket giver guy who shamelessly ripped my dignity (what little was left) from me and stole my favorite secret sanctuary.
YOU OWE ME A NEW HIDING PLACE!
(Oh, and french fry dipper guy, thanks for the french fries. They were especially greasy last time, and you know how I love that.)