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I used to go to the movies all the time. Now, not so much. In fact, the only movie I've seen this summer is "The Wedding Crashers" (and, to paraphrase a friend of mine, the movie was so funny I almost puked).

Basically, I have a two-year old and a husband who works long hours, so on the nights when we do have a baby sitter, it usually seems like a shame to waste it sitting in a dark theatre watching a movie that will come out on DVD in a few months anyway.

And then there's what I call the Ass Factor.

The Ass Factor is the bizarre ability I have to always end up sitting next to the biggest asshole in the movie theatre. It's true. Mostly, I sit near the talkers, those awful people who are incapable of thinking a thought without it popping out of their mouths. They feel the need to offer a running commentary on every single freaking plot point in the film. Like the woman sitting near me during "15 Minutes" who shrieked out, "Oooo, there's Charlize Theron!"

Charlize Theron wasn't in the theatre, mind you. She was up on the screen. And yet this individual was still so awed by just a glimpse of a movie star, even one who was simply appearing in the movie, that she felt the need to comment on it.

Then there was the time I sat behind the parents who gave their little girl a police whistle to play with during the movie (and they were shocked that George and I would object to this).

And what really gets me is how when you ask people to hush up, they're always offended.

"Are you serious?" one woman asked us, when we'd tired of her nearly non-stop prattle, and George asked her to kindly shut up (although I'm sure he said it in a nicer way, since he's that sort of a guy).

"Yes. I'm serious," George replied.

And the woman just stared at him, as though he'd asked her to perform a strip tease in the middle of the theatre.

My dad is a firm believer that I just have freakishly bad luck in attracting the Ass Factor. But then I'm not so sure it doesn't happen to everyone, i.e., that there isn't really such a large number of asses out there, that it’s a statistical probability you’ll sit near one most of the time you go to the movies. After all, when I was at the movies with my dad a few years ago, a fight broke out behind us. I don't mean the couple started bickering quietly. Oh no. The woman actually stood up, and screamed at her date, all the while threatening him with her fist. And afterward, when I commented on the altercation to my dad, he didn't remember it happening.

"I didn't hear that," Dad said.

"How could you not? She was screaming," I said. "Swearing. Threatening to punch him."

"Really? Hmmm. Did you ever think that maybe you're just oversensitive to ambient noise?" he asked.

Maybe I am. But then again, I know it's not just me, because in his brilliantly funny book of essays, Me Talk Pretty One Day, Dave Sedaris commented on the phenomenon. French people, Sedaris claims, don't make a peep in movie theatres. He compared this to the man he sat by in a theatre in the States, who brought in a radio and proceeded to listen to a baseball game during the movie. When the usher took the man to task for this, the man replied -- and I'm paraphrasing -- "What? There's no law against it."

Actually, I’m pretty sure I've sat next to that guy.

Posted 17 August 2005 at 05:59 PM