Don't Watch with your Mouth Full

I guess I don't get out much. Dine-in movie theatres have been on the scene for years, but my husband and I just had our first experience yesterday. It was a belated anniversary date that we planned back in the winter when we saw the promo poster for IronMan 2. "Ooh, I know, let's go see IronMan 2 in the lux level for our anniversary!" Feel free to laugh, everyone else has. Watching from the lux level and eating during the show seemed like a fun way to jazz up the date, but yesterday as I put on one of my favorite skirts I thought, "Hmmm, lunch in the dark...should I bring the Tide-to-go pen?"

We felt pretty special as we ascended the staircase to the lux level. The host brought us to a pair of comfy leather chairs (a definite upgrade over regular theatre seating) that had small tables about the size of an airplane tray table. As I perused the menu, I found myself sizing up meals based on mess-factor and whether they would need to be cut. I'm not sure I trust myself with a knife in the dark. As I narrowed down the selections, I tried to decide what would go with a Robert Downey Jr. movie. Something about eating fried food watching Downey chiseled down to an IronMan physique didn't seem quite right.

My husband settled on a Cuban sandwich, and I opted for the grilled tandoori pizza with proscuitto (something I generally don't like to eat in the light), tomatoes, mozzarella and brie (those last three things I'd eat in the day or in the night, in a house, with a mouse, on a train, in the rain)...and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar. The food arrived just as the lights were getting dimmer. I looked at that balsamic vinegar, and I looked at my skirt, and I was a little scared. That said, I had no trouble getting the food to my mouth in the dark, which doesn't really surprise me.

And then the movie started, and this disgustingly grimy man appeared on-screen. Greasy hair, dirty fingernails, and a face that just creeped me out. Ugh, my stomach churned, and I put down my pizza. As the opening credits ran, I realized that there would be an issue larger than the lack of light. Mickey. Rourke. Now this man is a good actor, but he completely skeeves me out. I see him, and I think, "You. Bath. Now." I had been waiting for this movie for months -- how did I not know he was in it? And more importantly, would my deliciously gooey entree go to waste? I formulated a plan -- eat during the Downey and Cheadle scenes, drink beer during the Rourke scenes. Occasionaly I was caught off-guard when Rourke appeared while I was finishing a bite, but I kept everything down.

And, my skirt made it through, vinegar-free.