9-12-2002: DAY SEVEN (Part One)

What is WRONG with people?! No, seriously, what?!

More to the point: what is WRONG with the annoying woman in red who shall, from here on in, be referred to as Mouthy Martha (not her real name)?!?!?

You see, today, she crossed the line. Crossed it and did a little dance on the other side. Today, she threw down the gauntlet and declared war. It's a battle she'll lose, but one that she foolishly decided to start this morning with a toss of her bag and a flash of her obnoxious smile.

Let me paint you a little picture of Mouthy Martha: she's tallish and skinny with short, greying black hair and too much make-up. She's very, very loud and must take some perverse pleasure in having everyone within a three-mile radius hear every ridiculous, inconsequential word out of her mouth. Mouthy Martha likes to name drop (even though the names are unbelievably uninteresting). Yesterday, while in line, she went so far as to ramble on (loudly, of course) about how she saw Roger Ebert in Chicago earlier this year, and how he did a double take when he saw her because, she said, "He couldn't figure out where he knew me from." I wanted to turn around and say, "No. He probably did a double take because he was thinking, 'Aw CRAP! That annoying woman from Toronto tracked me all the way to Chicago to bother me here!'"

Most importantly, Mouthy Martha likes particular seats in particular theaters. I know where these seats are because Mouthy is almost ALWAYS in them and makes a grand display of herself *near* them right up until the lights in the theater dim. She won't, you see, SIT DOWN... opting instead to stand guard in the aisle and chat with whatever poor soul might be within earshot. By doing this she has, over the years, made enough casual acquaintances among festival-goers that she somehow manages to weasel her way to the front of any line, anytime. It's fascinating to watch as she arrives for a screening and promptly scans lines to see if there's anyone she knows (or anyone she can pretend to be friends with) so she can sneak into line with them. Invariably, she finds some generous fool who obviously feels the need for cruel and unusual penance and who can tolerate her enough to let her in. They never sit together once inside, though, most likely because said fools realize about 10 minutes into the waiting-in-line process that Mouthy Martha is far too grating and irritating a person to spend any more time with than absolutely necessary.

But back to me. This morning, my first screening was Blue Car. I arrived at the theater nice and early and was close to the front of the line. To my horror, Mouthy Martha "knew" the person right behind me so, despite arriving about a half-hour after I did, she was right there with me as we went inside. After entering the actual theater, I made a beeline for *my* favorite seats. I could HEAR Mouthy running - RUNNING! - after me. I stepped into the row where I wanted to sit and was about to actually SIT DOWN in my seat when Mouthy threw - THREW!!! - her bag into the seat below my bum, grinned at me and, with a grotesquely "sweet" sing-songy voice, yelled, "SOR-RY!"

Right then. That's when she crossed the line between irritating and annoying to downright rude and in dire need of a good ass-kicking.

I was stunned. Did this just happen? Did she actually do what I think she did and do it in the manner in which it appeared she had? At this point, I've learned in hindsight, I had many options. I could have picked up her bag and heaved it across the theater with some choice expletives. I could have said "SOR-RY!" right back and SAT on her bag in the hopes of crushing all its contents. I could have sat down in the seat right next to the one she'd just stolen from me (since she always needs two or three together), just so she'd have to sit next to me or move. Or, I could have calmly and politely informed her that her actions were unnecessarily crude, rude and unappreciated.

But no, what did I do? I chose to travel the passive-agressive path. I said, "O-kay" in an unmistakable tone that made it clear it was NOT okay, then sat in the seat directly in front of her. This particular theater is on a low rake, so the incline isn't very steep and you often have to shift back and forth in your seat to see the screen if someone particularly tall sits in front of you. Someone like me. I swear, I have never had better posture or sat up more straight in my life. I made sure to position myself directly in her line of sight, and every time I heard her shift in her seat, I shifted, too. I scratched my head, adjusted my sunglasses, stretched out my neck and generally tried to obstruct her view as best I could for the duration of the film.

Then I told every line-mate I could find about the infraction so they, too, can share in the collective punishment of someone as brazen and boneheaded as Mouthy Martha. And, believe me, I'm not alone in my intense loathing of this woman. She will now have to contend with me at every screening we (much to my chagrin) will share in the future... for the rest of this festival and all those to come (because I see her EVERY SINGLE year). I don't think she realizes that I have the patience, creativity and speed to be in this battle for the long haul. I can beat her to any seat, any time... and I will. I don't even like where she chooses to sit, but her favorite seats will now become mine and I'll sit in them just so she can't.

Just wait, Mouthy. Just wait.

Back to the movies!

— Vickie