Today in Boeberting:

Also, the restaurant is an Applebees.
All restaurants in hell are Applebees.

There is a warm spot in hell for people who talk during a movie. It's one thing when you're on a couch at home, it's quite another when you're pissing off complete strangers who are under no obligation to pretend they like you. If that's the case, then there's an even warmer spot in hell--say, at a table right next to the kitchen so you keep getting the back of your chair smacked every time a server goes in or out--for people who talk in a theatre. 

Above: actual Denmark.

As in "re" theatre, like, actors on a stage who, like those sitting around you, can goddamn hear you. I bring this up because last night I saw some of a production of Hamlet. "Some?" you might reasonably ask? Yes, "some..." I reply with obvious irritation in my tone. My friends and I had, let's say, not the best seats. And it wasn't because better seats would have been too expensive, they would have, but that's not why we were seated in actual Denmark. It was because I may have left buying tickets until the last minute. Procrastination thy name is me.

"Sit. The fuck. Down."

-me, last night

As if the nosebleeds weren't ban enough, we had the misfortune of sitting behind a whole family of folks who've clearly never been to a play before. Or left their home and interacted with others. They talked, they constantly opened food in plastic wrappers. They passed said food back and forth. They had conversations about said food and the passing back and forth of it. They stood up and stretched like it was the seventh inning of a baseball game. Yes, that was a baseball reference. That's how upset I am: I'm reaching for sports allusions.

Clearly he missed the part about the
custom being more honored in the
breach than the observance.

My favorite among the group was drunk, like, visibly inebriated, and felt the need to anticipate lines. That is, Hamlet would start in with "What a rogue and peasant slave am I--" and drunko would announce loudly: "Here it comes!" Which, I mean, my dude. It's ok, the guy playing Hamlet has it covered. We don't need the hype-up. And when I say this guy was my favorite, understand it's not because I enjoyed his running commentary. No, it's because he passed out after he came back from intermission. Like, slumped in his chair, out cold for the entire second half of the show. It was bliss. 

Yeah, so I got stuck behind the literal worst people ever, ok, but how was the show? No idea. I mean, most of the time I was thinking about how much I wanted Drunky Magee to shut up, or his buddy to sit in his seat like a human. Did I tap them on the should and ask them to please quite down? No. Of course I didn't, and here's the really messed up part of this whole sorry affair: I didn't want to be rude. You know, in some ways I feel like part of the problem.

Remember that time Lauren Boebert got kicked out of a theatre
for giving her date a handy? Yeah, this wasn't that, I just wanted to
remind us all of the kind of person that is rude in a theatre.