Hush

'Tis late again - the witching hour is near upon me and sleep gently beckons. However, before I succumb to somnolence, may I just say this: In the dark and dreary depths of hell a special circle should be reserved for those who talk in theatres during performances of films and plays. Tonight I sat in front of a couple who nattered incessantly during a film. Naturally, suffering as I do from innate British reserve, I couldn't just turn around and ask them to be quiet, so I simply glanced over my shoulder at them. As all Brits know, this is tantamount to a harsh rebuke. It did no good - their confab continued unabated. I decided to up the stakes a little, and turned around, not merely to glance this time, but to stare. I may not have the most intimidating of stares, but it's still the principle of the thing - a stare in a cinema is practically the equivalent of shouting "please be quiet" . Again, they carried on their conversations. Finally I turned around and did the unthinkable. I made eye contact. And held it. And believe it or not, the woman I made eye contact with continued talking even as she looked me in the eye. Quite frankly, I was lost as to what the correct course of action was after that. And it didn't get any better. Their mobile phone went off a short while later, rather loudly playing "Under The Sea" from Disney's Little Mermaid.

They were a rude and frustrating couple. They complained loudly at the end about how terrible they thought the film was, and how pointless. I snarkily interjected: "Perhaps the point was to keep quiet so other people around you could enjoy the film." Not the greatest of put downs, mayhap, but I felt they deserved something for their callous disregard towards others.

That particular brand of ignorance really gets my back up.