The advantage of being single is that you don’t have to compromise; you do pretty much what you want, you do it when you want, you don’t do anything that you don’t want.
This is a wonderful thing; it’s only when you find someone that is worth making compromises for that it becomes second best. And when you have that someone, then compromises happen, and it’s a price worth paying.
It was in this light that I went to see New Moon at the weekend.
For the record, the film itself was pretty shit. The plot was predictable and childish, the visuals were disappointing, thon girl needs to learn that acting sexy doesn’t equate to pretending to be breathless, and the special effects were insultingly bad. The entire movie was made for young girls and people who were once young girls, and they didn’t do the usual thing of making a couple of token nods towards other demographics to make their stay in the room bearable.
But that’s not the point; that’s what I expected and that’s what I signed up for. What I didn’t expect, and what made the trip the worst 2 hours I’ve spent in a cinema, was the audience. oohing and aahing; screaming, clapping every other minute. I honest to God that I wanted to leave, drag TLF out with me, lock the doors and then fill the room with some form of venomous animals.
So the film was bad, but it was made abysmal by the people watching it with me.
Except for TLF, of course, for whom I watched it, and for whom I’d watched it many more times if needbe. But the compromises go both ways, and the poor girl will be watching of my choice soon enough…