Saturday, June 6, 2009

Peanut-crunching crowd


In the winter’s blear I trundled off to Carlton’s Nova cinema to see Samson and Delilah. I waited in a ruck of bodies, all with choc-tops in hand. I should know better than to see a film in a full cinema. The sibilant gentleman next to me had a musical nose. I always seem to sit next to morons who like to offer up slow-witted commentary—the pair behind me bleated their feeble observations, ‘He’s done his work for the day…’. Then there’s the imprudent guffawing: the popcorn-munching crowd laughed robustly at awkward moments and at the quotidian—as if the scarfing of popcorn necessitates that one must have a jolly time. The chortling group seemed terrifically pleased with their acumen when a bridge-dweller swigging cask wine cautioned the teenagers not to inhale petrol as it ‘will rot your brain’. Complacency effloresced as people clucked their tongues at the standoffish white coffee-drinkers for shunning the black beggar girl.

As the credits rolled, people collected their belongings with a cheery lightness, as if they’d done their charity bit for the season. So the kid with the circle of black paint ringing his mouth will still cause people to cross the road as he approaches And the slight, long-haired indigenous woman will continue to pace Brunswick Street singing ‘Happy birthday to me’, dollarless and jumperless.

5 comments:

  1. You're lucky you didn't get swine flu! It's rather risky hanging around establishments where people are too close, especially if LM was there. She's ground zero as you are well aware.

    They were the choc-top brigade? Oh dear, how did you cope? The indigenous woman was jumperless? What a feast for the eyes or have you grown cataracts by now?

    ReplyDelete
  2. My eyesight is less than perfect, really I should be donning a patch.

    I did not mean she was naked, but rather that it's winter and she only had a ratty T-shirt.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Ah, Jess, your vitriolic vitriol is always a metaphorical breath of fresh air! I pray I'm never on the receiving end of your razor sharp pen.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Aerialist J, you shall never be scratched by my nib. We enjoy many of the same books and once upon a crazy time, you hired me, and you're from my hometown...

    ReplyDelete
  5. this makes me super sad. and angry! people at cinemas are idiots. except you...and me, of course.
    xo

    ReplyDelete