You’ve seen it, right? “12 Years A Slave” was a great movie, about American history. It’s a true story, and we Blinkmans, along with millions and millions of other people in the world, wanted to see this movie.
We bought our tickets, at $11 each, asking the ticket attendant if perhaps there was a discount for kids, Shane & Cale were still 12 at the time. The man selling the tickets looked up briefly, shook his head no, stated the brief “Cannot” that we have come to love to hear, and so we paid our $55. We then bought our popcorns & sodas for another $50, got into the theater, found our assigned seats (yes, seats are assigned), and settled in to watch this great film.
Next thing we knew, we were being told to leave the theater, and were very firmly ushered out. The old man monitoring the movie goers flagged our family because we had minors with us, and the movie is rated M18.
The five of us were confused as to what was going on, as we followed the old man back to where we bought our tickets, not daring to turn around or hesitate in any other way. I mean, this old man was yelling at us, “Come!” “Follow me” “Follow!” as he practically walked backwards so not take his eyes off us. Oh we dared not to make an escape with such a captor.
Once we got back to the ticket counter, total confusion and chaos is what happened next. We were told that the boys were under 18 and therefore could not see the movie. Never mind that Maria was only 13. This was about the boys.
I stated that I am the mother and only I can say what my kids “can” and “cannot” see. Trent was stating that this film is American history, for crying out loud. The manager is called, and woah, we were shocked to find out that the manager is the very same person who sold us the tickets. You know, the one we asked about a discount because our boys were 12!
He said, yes, he did remember us, and to make us go away, his signed off on us. I mean he LITERALLY signed our movie tickets, which gave us permission to bring our minors into the theater.
Then the manager personally walked us back to our theater, totally ignoring us. This is when I had had enough. If they had said to us in the very beginning that the kids were too young, then okay, we can accept that. But this man who is in charge made one mistake after another, and made no apologies whatsoever. So, me being me, which I admit is sometimes good and sometimes bad, I said to him, “All you have to do is apologize to us”, to which he ignored. I tried again, “Apologize” more demanding this time. Finally, without turning to even look at us, he gave us a very stiff and curt “I’m sorry”, and then began walking even faster.
By now we were at the entrance of our already darkened theater, and when he turned to walk away, I felt just a tish bad about being so direct, for letting my East Coast girl out on this man, so I turned and shook his hand, looked in his eyes, and offered a sincere “thank you”.
And I really meant that “Thank you”. For the fits of giggles that none of us could control once we sat down again in our assigned seats, for allowing us to continue on to enjoy a great film, and for a really great story.
Oh the adventure just keep coming!!