Last night was one of the most absurd experiences of my entire life.
Eight or nine other postbacs and I went to see “Bad Teacher,” a movie whose only redeeming features are a fat kid getting hit in the face with a dodgeball (always funny, under any circumstances), gratuitous use of boobs (another running theme of this story, fyi) and internally comparing the peppy insane teacher, Ms. Squirrel, with all my Teach For America friends. You know what I mean.
Midway through the movie, we began hearing thunder that was clearly not part of the movie. We also noticed a woman in front cackling like a banshee every time there was even an attempt at a joke on screen; I felt bad for laughing at her because I originally thought it was just a kid with a bad sense of social norms. Turns out it was just an extremely hammered older lady, as you will soon see.
Anyway, a few minutes after the thunder started, the theater lights surged and the picture went out. Astoundingly, the audio track remained, though the drunk woman in front drowned it out by screaming obscenities at the screen:
“HEY! WE GET OUR MONEY BACK NOW! GET THIS, PEOPLE, THERE’S NO MOVIE!”
After a few minutes of her (honestly hilarious) tirade, someone in the back got a little sick of her and yelled back, “Shut the fuck up!”
Whoa. Escalation. As you might imagine, this did not go over well with Drunk Lady, who I would venture a guess is herself a teacher overly enjoying her break. She was wearing teacher clothes. Again, you know what I mean.
“How about YOU shut the fuck up? You want to see the movie? I’ll put on a movie for you, you fuckers!”
At which point the woman stands up, grabs her boobs, and lifts. Now granted, it’s dark in the theater, so no one can see anything, but apparently the people in the back were not impressed with the Down-In-Front Twins.
“SIT THE FUCK DOWN!”
Complying, the woman returned to simply grumbling loudly about the picture, with gems like:
“This movie fucking sucks,” and:
“I’d rather shit my pants than watch more of this crap.”
Actually, that’s a pretty decent pun if you think about it…
Thankfully, the picture came back on before anything could escalate. A few seconds later, an extremely large, fat and balding man with a brass nametag and a would-be-expensive-if-it-were-real watch came and sat two seats away from me. Strangely, he wasn’t at all interested in the movie; rather, he was keeping an eyeball on the Drunk Teacher making fun of Bad Teacher. We correctly deduced this was the manager, and that he was about to toss Drunk Teacher out on her drunk butt.
Sure enough, five minutes later DT gets the boot. The rest of the movie proceeded uneventfully, if badly. I am the easiest person in the world to please, seeing as I consider Happy Gilmore a masterpiece, but Bad Teacher fell far short of even that extraordinarily low bar. Relieved to be out of there, us postbacs walked out of the theater and into a scene that looked like The Day After Tomorrow.
The rain was coming down sideways and in sheets. There were huge arcs of lightning coursing across the sky, and I’m pretty sure we saw one hit the department store across the street. After ten minutes staring at the storm, we decided it was time to “do it live” and sprint for the cars.
Now, my friend “R” and I had already decided previously that we were going to get Chipotle after the movie. As we drove, wet, toward the local Church of Chipotle (because let’s be real, I worship that place), we realized it was pitch black at all the strip centers.
Fuck. I thought back over my day; I’ve only eaten a Reese’s (my protein), approximately six tortilla chips (my carb), and a tomato (my fruit/vegetable) today, and that was it. I had spent the last half of Bad Teacher thinking about a delicious chicken fajita burrito bowl, and now that dream was about to be dashed by the cruel gods of nature. We decided to at least check it out; who knows, maybe they have a generator.
Actually, knowing Chipotle, they probably have a contingency plan that involves sending the youngest staff member into the basement to bike maniacally in order to power the cash registers and tortilla steamer.
When we arrived, we saw people inside and decided to give it a go. Turns out they were still open, though they were without power. Approaching the counter, the none-too-happy server said, “What do you want?”
“Do you still have any food?” “R” asked.
“Barbacoa. And some beans. And rice.”
It appeared our options were limited. I don’t know why he asked what we wanted in the first place, seeing as everyone had to get the same thing. But Chipotle being Chipotle, we readily agreed to eat pretty much whatever they served us. The cashier took prints of our credit cards (like pissed-off taxi drivers do when you force them to put the fare on your card), then went to throw out the sour cream. Apparently, if sour cream gets above a certain temperature you have to throw it away; otherwise, it rapidly starts to grow brain-melting microorganisms.
We ate phenomenal burrito bowls of barbacoa under the emergency lighting system while, incredibly, more people arrived. The fact that so many people came to Chipotle in the middle of a monsoon obviously proves that Chipotle is crack, or a religion, or both. Top Chipotle experience of my life, hands down.
Of course, I then returned to a pitch-black apartment and no air conditioning. Awesome.
Moral of the story: Bad Teacher is bad, thunderstorms are still awesome, and Chipotle is more powerful than Mother Nature… and far more delicious.
Take that, vegans.