We’ve all been in this situation. You’ve bought your movie ticket, drinks and snacks and have just found your seat after awkwardly shuffling past people who think sucking in their gut and moving their knees slightly gives you easier access.
It doesn’t matter too much at first, because this is a movie you’ve been dying to see ever since first watching the previews. It’s that movie you love, about that thing you like, starring the person you lust after or secretly wish to be.
You look to your right and left as people also find their seats, and listen to others rustling through their assorted treats and chatting away with their friends, lovers and family.
Everyone is content and, for the most part, relaxed. Cinemas are happy places, full of widescreen wonder. The cinema goes dark and most of this hubbub dies down; that inexplicable faint smell of urine lingers in the air that everyone pretends to ignore. Your excitement peaks as the opening credits start. It’s time to quietly enjoy the movie, right?
Wrong. There’s someone near you, still chatting away on their phone about how they got so drunk on the weekend; or maybe they’ve got their feet draped over your seat, with the kind of body stench that could qualify as biological warfare and you’re left to weep silent tears as your auditory and olfactory senses are assaulted.