As I’ve mentioned before, I’m an introvert/socially anxious/awkward/shy/a hermit and generally dislike other people and all the things that go along with interacting with them.
I put this all aside last weekend when I decided that hubby and I should go to the movies to celebrate our 15 year date-iversary. Since we’re movie snobs, we only go to the AMC Dine-In theater with the recliners and full menu of food and alcoholic drinks. Apparently everyone else in the tri-state area had the same idea and all of the movies that I wanted to see were either sold out or only had single seats left. I then did something even more out of character and bought tickets to The Wolf of Wall Street at the theater we had never been to before, in a city we weren’t familiar with. Cue the anxiety.
The seats weren’t the big fancy recliners, and there was no table on a swinging arm, but the menu was the same and the chairs were comfy enough. The seats were grouped in fours, so being extremely anti-social and borderline rude, I bought two seats in the middle of a group of four. I figured the chances of anyone buying the two single seats on the ends was slim to none so we would get to watch the movie in semi-privacy.
We got there, settled into our seats and buzzed our waitress. She didn’t even greet us or tell us her name. In fact, she said no words to us at all when she arrived. She just stood there looking at us with her pen to her little waitress pad, as if we had disturbed her from something much more pressing than our need for fried food and sugary drinks.
Just as the previews were starting a young couple walked over and was looking at the seat numbers. The guy then asked us if we would move over so that they could sit together. I grumbled and gave him a bit of the stink-eye while hubby and I briefly consulted each other about whether or not we would move for them, and then we picked up our stuff and shifted to the left. Now, I know that it was not nice of me to buy those particular seats, but I also find it somewhat unacceptable that they bought the end seats knowing that they would just ask whomever was sitting in the middle to move. Then the guy had the nerve to say to us, “It’s not like one seat makes that much of a difference anyway.” Well, no, I suppose it doesn’t, but when there is reserved seating and someone pays for specific seats, then yes it does make a difference. Especially when that someone is me and now I have to sit next to you, Douchey Guy with a Ginormous Phone and Therefore Ginormous and Unbelievably Bright Screen. He felt the need to pull it out every few minutes for the next three hours to check who knows what, gallantly turning it away from his girlfriend’s face right into my eyes.
Towards the end of the movie, our waitress brought the bills over. I paid with my credit card, Douchey Guy paid with cash. They got their receipt, we got nothing. A few minutes later the waitress came back and told DG that he paid with cash. He acknowledged this. She told him that she mistakenly gave him a credit card and asked where it was. He feigned ignorance and my blood started to boil because I knew immediately that he had my credit card. She explained to him in the simplest of terms that if he paid with cash then he would not receive a credit card in return, and just as she was about to start drawing him pictures to illustrate this point, he pulled my credit card out of his pocket and gave it back to her.
Now, I wasn’t upset at the waitress. Things happen. People make mistakes. BUT. How could someone knowingly take a credit card that doesn’t belong to them and put it away in their pocket?! There is no reason for this, other than he was going to steal it, right? The only reasons we didn’t say anything to him were (1) he seemed high as a freakin’ kite and was also at least a little drunk, so there was a good chance he didn’t have a clue what was going on, and (2) have you watched the news? People are unstable and I didn’t want to end up a headline.
I got my card back and all is right in my world, but I think I’ve learned my lesson and will not be venturing out again in the near future.