An Open Letter To My Friends

Dear Friends,

Tragedy has been averted.

Due to the unbelievably shortsighted decision of waiting until only three freakin’ days before the release of a major blockbuster, we might have been unable to purchase any tickets for the Friday night showing of Harry Potter at our local theater of choice. If not for some quick thinking and alternate plan making we would now be ticket-less and thereby forced to see the movie with the rest of life’s social flotsam during a Saturday afternoon show. Or, even more revolting on Sunday morning when all the family groups and lonely single outcasts go.

Oh, the unmitigated horror.

However, we did manage to find another theater with Friday evening tickets still for sale and I did not have to resort to plan B. I know some of you will be disappointed, but ever since Guiliani cracked down on prostitution in NY we’ve been unable to resort to our usual means of ticket procurement by selling our significant others to high-school nerds as they wait in the ticket holders line. Be advised that most high school kids are now on the Internet, and many remember us from the Star Wars Episode I ‘All This and a Salad, Too!’ fiasco.

SleepyZ, there’s no need to wear your thong.

As it now stands, I’m going to go to the theater early and wait in the ticket-holders line because otherwise all 12 of us won’t all be sitting together. Donations of food, water and sympathy will be appreciated, although some company would be best. I expect to be there a few hours early because I want to be first in line so that we get really good seats. That and I also want to watch all the young, sexy girls as they bounce up and down with excitement in their too-tight sweaters and low-rider jeans before HoBiscuit arrives.

HoBiscuit, please don’t hit me. It was a joke. Really. You know you’re the only one for me, right? Right?

Oh boy. I’m in trouble now.

Anywaste, breathe easy my friends, the worst is over and our record of seeing all blockbuster movies on opening night remains safe and unbroken. We’ve never missed the opening of a blockbuster movie and we’re not about to start now. Not on my watch we won’t. All we need to do now is figure out what to do before and after the movie so we don’t all wind up standing on a street corner doing one of life’s most depressing song and dances. You know the one. Where we all stand around on a street corner, looking at each other and saying things like,

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t care.”

“Neither do I.”

Silence

“So, what do you want to do?”

No one wants that to happen, now do we? I didn’t think so.

To recap, we have tickets for Harry Pothead and the Sorcerer’s Stoned. I will be waiting in line for seats (with blinders on and a picture of my beautiful, lovely and forgiving girlfriend stapled to my forehead) and we will not stand around on a street corner either before or after the movie. Should anyone have any questions about or criticism of my plan, please write them down on a sheet of college-ruled notepaper, carefully roll the paper into a thin tube, shove it up your into a bottle and hurl it into the ocean because I just don’t care. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to paint a lightning bolt on my forehead and find an old-fashioned broom to bring with me to the theater.

What? Because I’m a Geek, that’s why.