Dear diary, sorry I’m a little late on “the Sunday Itch”, go figure, I start a series and I miss the 2nd week deadline. I will try to treat this better than my wife’s honey-do list; some of those projects are going on 10 years late. Just a reminder for new readers “the Sunday Itch” is self-medicating therapy that will hopefully help me understand and grow deeper patients for irritating folks I run into each week.

This weeks Itch; “Movie theater goers”. Hey lady, get your damn foot off of my chair. Hey kids stop your damn talking during the movie. My oldest daughter and I decided last minute Saturday to go see a movie. The Theater wasn’t too full, so plenty of seats to choose from. Of course, my luck, a crazy lady with a fetish for seat kicking, sits right behind me. Next to them are 3 hormonal middle school scholars’ trying their best to be weird Goth kids.

It took no time at all to feel a nervous foot twitch on the back of my chair as soon as the movie starts. I politely turn and ask her to please stop kicking my chair, no response, no apology but the kicking stopped.  Just then the giggle and whispers start from the lost boys and Pauley Perrette. I don’t say anything in fear they are vampires looking at my daughter for their next victim. I think the Marilyn Manson off spring is giggling about my comments to the lady behind me. A few minutes later she starts to thump on the back of my seat again. What the hell, I waited for a minute to see if she catchers herself pouncing on my chair. I don’t think I paid extra for a vibrating massage chair so I turned back around and said PLEASE, Stop kicking my chair! Once again no response, no apology but the kicking stopped.

My daughter asked if I wanted to switch seats, I said if I do, I am going to sit behind her and kick the crap out of the back her seat and then start giggling obnoxiously. Just then the kicking started for a 3rd time, could this be someone I know and is trying to mess with me to get me to recognize them? What the hell, nobody is that disrespectful. I now stand up turnaround and look her and her husband right in the eye and say; Kick my chair one more time and I will rip off your fat foot and cram it down your eff’n throat! Well that’s what I wanted to say, instead I did stand up looked at her husband straight in the eye and said, really, (as if to appeal from one Fat Dad to another, help me out here) then I looked at her and said very loudly, right in the middle of the show, can you PLEASE stop kicking my chair!  Once again no response, no apology but the kicking stopped.  I do think this cured the Clan of Xymox to shut up at least.

No matter how freakin rude of a person you are, you could never spoil a date with my daughter, Fat Dads don’t get those too often. Consider yourself lucky she was there or you just may have tasted toe jams with your popcorn!

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