Before they started the flick up, a moderately attractive yet terminally sluttified girl in the front row turned around and whispered to me.
“Are you with Stacy?”
“Stacy invited me, yeah.”
“Ohhhh, she must like you then!”
“Yeah, if she brings a guy here that means she’s into them.”
I was heartened. Sure, I had just endured total embarrassment and wanted nothing more than to burn the building down, praying that the sheer amount of cheap makeup and polyester would make it all burn faster, but odds were Stacy was in to me.
The reel they showed was the dirtiest film reel I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I’m surprised (and disappointed) the thing didn’t break and catch fire during the show. The film, which as I said I’ve seen once before and had already determined it to be a big piece of shit, is not at all made less shitty by a bunch of unfunny assholes shouting incredibly unclever jokes at the screen. Here’s a sample:
Some idiot kid: “Hey Riffraff, what do they call Jell-O in Hell?”
People around the kid laughed. I wanted to reach behind me and break his teeth in.
While some might think the presence of barely-clad (and occasionally nude) college girls prancing around on stage would make any movie better, these girls were pretty beat-up looking. Tattoos, stretch marks, ripped clothing… the whole nine yards, like some pimp’s “B” stable. One or two of them could pass for “cute”, but by far Stacy was the best looking of them… a fact I slowly came to realize was to my detriment. By the time some woefully out-of-shape guy with bad hair came waddling out on stage in nothing but gold-colored briefs and a bow-tie, I was about ready to puke. This nightmarish carnival of flesh was actually making my stomach turn. I couldn’t wait for this thing to be over.
It did eventually end, but my own personal nightmare had merely begun.
Classic pick up lines for the sleazebag who tends to overthink things.
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