Tonight was movie night with the Ivey kids! Basically my roommate, boyfriend and their classmates. The intention was to drag a bunch of unsuspecting boys unknowingly into “He’s Just Not That Into You”. We decided to roll up to the theater in our over-capacitated car (apparently their Ivey brains stop working after hours) only to discover a line that extended from the ticket desks all the way into the mall. Sold out movie…we were defeated. The runner up was Gran Torino. So we buy our tickets, and cut into the concession line. I have never been a pop drinker, but I love my fountain diet coke. I ask for a large, so I can share, of course. My eyes widen as the concession man places the most mammoth, super-sized diet coke I have ever seen in my life. What in gods name am I going to do with 2 liters of diet coke—I could not possibly hold it with one hand. The concession man explains to me, after observing my horror, that it cost only 50 cents more than the regular sized drink AND was refillable. 50 cents? REFILLABLE? Heck, I would pay you 50 cents to make it smaller, and 50 more to see someone finish it and not explode. (Pete, that was not a challenge) I felt like I was in a super-size-me documentary. Regardless of the concession monstrosity, the movie was…surprisingly hilarious for an overly racist, shoot-em-up style, Clint Eastwood movie. The acting, other than Clint’s, was questionable, but still worth seeing. Some found it depressing, but most, quite humorous. It was sure a far cry from the chick flick we had intended on seeing, but a great time, no less.
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