Smooth criminal

The other day, for the first time in my life, I knowingly and intentionally committed a crime (Well, other than the time that I refused to pick up Bella's poop, which would have resulted in a crime had Doobs not stepped in to help out).

Doobs, Bobbis, Delta and I were at the multiplex cinema near our place. It was an overcast, thunderous, monstrous day - the perfect day to spend watching movies. We went to watch Vantage Point, which turned out to be so bad, just SO bad, that after the two hour film had finally ended, we felt we rightfully deserved our money back. How many times has that happened to you? All the time, right? Me too. But this time, it was different. This time, we were having none of it. We were going to make a stand for consumer respect and dignity.

"I know, let's make up our money by sneaking into another movie!" said Bobbis. Mostly as a joke, but somehow, the idea stuck.
Somehow, we convinced ourselves that sneaking into another movie was our birthright, after having wasted two ours of our precious lives on Vantage Point.

We walked by the other movie theatres in that area. The only other movie about to start was Charlie Bartlett. Heard of it? We hadn't either.
"I don't know," I said dubiously, "none of us even know what this movie is about. Do we seriously want to go risk this again?"

But now that we'd gotten the adrenalised mode of criminal intent, there was no stopping us. In fact we might have even snuck back into Vantage Point if that had been the only option, so intent were we on doing the sneaky thing.

You might think, talk about having a really wasteful approach to time. And you wouldn't be too far off the mark. But turns out, as luck would have it, Charlie Bartlett served us just fine to lift our moods. There was even a poignant moment that brought the single tear to my eye ("I can't believe you're crying at Charlie Bartlett!" Delta whispered, appalled).

As we left the cinema, we still felt obliged to whistle and yawn in feigned nonchalance, to dissuade the wily ticket checkers who might have suspected our malfeasance. Now I feel quite seasoned enough to pull off ye' ol' Italian Job.