A Hero Yet Again

You see, every time I go to the movies, I end up being a hero. I just have a knack for it. What happens is that I go to the movies, and something almost inevitabley goes wrong. Either the sound will go off or the film will fall some way and the audio will keep going or the whole thing will shut down or I'll be watching a film with subtitles and the subtitles will be below the screen or the people will forget to start the film at all. There are lots of things that can go wrong with the movies, and I've seen them all. This is yet another way in which the Pierce curse reveals itself.

Of course, being a Pierce is both a blessing and a curse. All of that time fighting off the ill-effects of being cursed from birth, will produce the sort of battlehardened, heroic figure I have become. I have made some missteps along the way, but each mistake has only made me stronger. And my unimaginable heroism is on full display each time the movie shuts down.

Because, you see, every time the movie messes up, I get up out of my chair and walk through the theater, and tell the theater people that something has gone terribly wrong. And, forgive me for bragging, this is a great and heroic thing to do. In the last four-and-a-half years, I can actually count eleven times that the movie has messed up, and in those times, I have never once seen anyone else get up to tell the movie people. And I'm not extraordinarily quick about it either. That's really what makes me so amazing. At heart, I know I am a coward. I'm just like everyone else in the room; the last thing I want to do when the sound goes off is get up in front of everyone and go and tell the theater staff. Each time, I consider just sitting there for two hours so that I can complain afterward and get a refund. I don't though. I face my fears, and I stand up tall, and I step out into the dark stickiness, guided only by the little lights at my feet, and I stare those cowards sitting in their comfortable seats eating their popcorn-flavored butter in the eye, defying them, and I walk straight up to the guy sweeping the floor right outside the theater and I say, "Um, the sound went off," and he, knowing in just one glance at my sharp and boney elbows that I'm not a person he wants to mess with, says, "Alright." And I walk back to my seat with humility knowing that another day's work is done. And I enjoy the movie.

Of course, this happened tonight. Me and Will were talking about how that always happens to me before the movie started, and sure enough, when the movie started, the sound went off. I waited a while, thinking that maybe one of the people who was just walking into the theater might step out and notify the theater staff. They didn't. So then I got up and told the dude outside. They fixed it, we watched it, and a good time was had by all. All thanks to me.

When is somebody going to give me a medal?