inveil: round three, mofo.

Lather. Rinse. Repent.

Friday, September 30, 2005

Corpse Bride is no Nightmare Before Christmas.

'The great thing about movie theaters is' Tony says - crumbs flying everywhere from his mouth full of popcorn - 'it's the only place where you're allowed to litter. And it helps the economy'. We're standing in the lobby of a giant multiplex, waiting for our friends to buy their candy. I've been staring at this tall, hulking, slightly stooped, sad-looking boy behind the concession stand, trying to figure out where I know him from. I look down at Tony's feet, and they're surrounded by popcorn kernels, straw paper, a napkin. 'No, seriously. Think about it. The more trash I drop on this floor, the more people are going to have to clean it up. And the busier the staff is here, the more people they have to hire. I'm creating jobs.' I, for probably the tenth time that day, resist the urge to kick my husband and realize that I know the tall boy because he works at chick-fil-a and I go there every fucking day. This saddens me.

I need to start taking my lunch to work.

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