As part of the ongoing fun-less month of Sober January, a few of us, including Mr & Mrs Fat Jim went to the local Cinema on Saturday night to see the new Tom Cruise film, Valkyrie. I had been careful not to read any reviews, as I did not want to accidentally read a spoiler and find out if whether or not they managed to kill Hitler.
When we arrived at the cinema, there were two huge queues for the confectionery, but I can not enjoy a film without sweets, and Fat Jim needs and enormous box of popcorn so we took our place in one of the queues.
A few minutes later we noticed the other queue was moving much more quickly than our own. As always, this presents a dilemma. Do you jump ship and join the other one, or stick it out where you are? The law of Sod dictates the one you are in will always move more slowly, so we decided to stay put. Then, we watched as a women, in the position we would have been in had we moved queues, began taking clear strides ahead of us in the race to the service point.
We had been queueing for ten minutes when we discussed shop lifting. I mean, technically we had every intention of paying for our goods, but they were making it very difficult, and we were in danger of missing the trailers, which are often the best bit in Tom Cruise movies.
“I could create a diversion for you?” offered Fat Jim as our plan began to take shape.
“A domestic disturbance of some kind. I could slap the missus about a bit?”
“No you fucking will not!” replied Mrs Fat Jim, reminding who was boss.
“OK, how about a bit of shouting and running around?”
“I’ll do it for a tenner.”
“You want to charge me ten pounds so I can steal less than three pounds worth of confectionery?”
“Well, when you put it like that. But I am offering.”
Unfortunately, I have a rudimentary understanding of economics, and so declined this generous offer. I will however take him up on it if ever I want to steal a TV or a car. Ten pounds for a public diversion is actually quite good value when you think about it.
As we finally got to the front of the queue, we noticed that there were three members of staff servicing the other queue, and only one child approaching puberty serving ours.
“Do you realise there are three people serving that queue, and just you on this one.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s funny isn’t it.” replied the tattooed and lip-ringed child.
“No, it’s not remotely funny. We’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes.”
“Oh yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“We might miss the trailers, and they are generally the best bit in Tom Cruise movies.”
“I’m sorry, again.”
We missed the trailers and the film began with a statement that it was based on a true story, and no, they did not kill Hitler.