Indiana Jones: The Search for Intelligence

Typically, I'm a pretty patient person when it comes to stupid people. For example, I try not to laugh when I see someone sneaking a finger up their nose or walking innocently down the street with their fly wide open. I even attempt to feel bad when around three o'clock this old Asian woman attempts to parallel park outside my apartment and manages to hit every single car around her and the sidewalk repeatedly. (I mean, we are talking several attempts, several dings and even some car alarms...and, I don't laugh. Okay, snicker, but there's a difference).

Now, before you think I'm a regular saint, you must know I also have my limits. Take for example, the dollar theater in St. George, Utah. Last weekend, during a wild and crazy girls' weekend, me, my mom and my sister decided to go see the new Indiana Jones movie. I thought this would be an enjoyable movie to see in a quiet and dark theater. Unfortunately, I didn't realize we were actually attending an "interactive" theater. Don't know what an "interactive" theater is? Well, basically it means that during the entire movie you are allowed to talk to your neighbor in a normal voice...even loud if you like. For example, if you are worried Indiana has finally met his match you can ask in a nice, loud and clear voice, "What's going to happen to him?" Or if you are excited to see another movie with Shia Labeouf in it, you can exclaim, "Another movie with Shia?! Alright!" And lastly, if you are hungry, you had better let everyone know in the theater that you are about to go get some popcorn and soda.

After fifteen minutes of this interactive crap, I was ready to kill someone. However, with only my keys as a weapon, I was forced into my second strategy of attack. (You know, basic angry looks to my neighbors, hands up in the air, labored sighs and moving to different seats). Unfortunately, none of these passive aggressive techniques seemed to work. Therefore, I turned things over to Barb. After another loud comment from the person in front of us, my wonderful mom hissed an awesome, "SHHH!!" and then yelled, while pointing at them, "Stop it!" Instantly, silence graced our row. I don't know what was more awesome, the people in front of us slouching down in their chairs in defeat, or hearing my mom say in a triumphant voice, "I can't believe I just did that."

Attention stupid people in St. George: We've moved into Entrada and we would like it if you would keep the stupidity to a minimum.