Still, though, in this magical phase called "Engagement" when I'm already sworn to my love and my love is sworn to me and we're simply waiting for a band and a meal to make it official in front of family and friends, I still think back and to the old days when a movie was enough. And so such an opportunity arose, just the other day, for me to watch a movie in exactly the environment I'd dreamed of. It was Saturday, I was home alone, there was a movie I really wanted to see perched on top of my roommate Kenn's DVD collection, Lisa was at work and would remain there for quite some time, and everyone else I knew was out and about doing whatever it was that normal people did on Saturday's. I had a date with Black Hawk Down, a bowl of cereal, some juice, and maybe a little snack should the movie drag on that long. Nestled into the couch in just the perfect position, remote controls positioned just in front of me so that I could use each and every one of them with minimal movement, and food just to the left of the remote controls - I was set. I was ready. I was going in. The movie started. About twenty minutes into the movie, Lisa calls. I pause and pick up. She's going on and on about whatever it was she wanted to talk about. I listened because it was both my duty as fiancé and I was actually genuinely interested (if I wasn't interested I wouldn't be marrying her, right?). As soon as I had an open window within which to say a few things, I told her that I was trying to watch a movie and that I'd call her back in a little bit when it was over. Being the greatest team player a fella' could hope for, she told me loved me and to get back to my movie. I love her so much. I felt all warm inside, smile, and press play. Phone again. I pause and pick up. It's Lisa again. She apologetic at first for interrupting the movie that she knew I desperately wanted to watch, but there was an important matter she forgot to tell me during our last conversation. I listened, it was indeed important, and I told her that I was going to take care of it first thing after the movie was over. Then she smiled (I couldn't see it over the phone, but she's so energetic I could feel it - I love this woman), told me she loved me, and hung up. I felt all warm again, snuggled back into my spot on the couch, and pressed play once again. Just as I pressed play and watched enough to fully re-immerse myself into the film, the phone rings again. I pause, again, and pick up, again. Lisa just wanted to be cute and tell me she loved me. So adorable. Ok. Back to the movie. More warmth and snuggling. I pressed play and was under way once more. Phone. This time it's mom, and she's bored in the middle of a long car-ride to Hayward and just wanted to see what was going on and say hey and remind to do this and call and remember and blah, blah, blah. Every time I mentioned to her that I was in the middle of a movie she comes back with, "Well too bad. I'm your mother." In my comical rage I told her, when she asked what movie I was watching, "Black Hawk Pause." When she tells me she never heard of such a movie, I told her that it was originally 'Black Hawk Down', but thanks to her endless interruption it might as well be called 'Black Hawk Pause." The kvetching went on for a little bit longer, both of us getting nothing (her not getting information from a tight-lipped me that wanted only to get back to his movie, and my not getting her to get off the phone so I could get back to the movie). Finally, she hangs up, and I get back to my film. I'm not comfortable anymore. As soon as the movie plays again, I'm wasting the first few minutes trying to remind myself what's gone on thus far instead of what's happening right then and there. Eventually, however, I'm back up to speed, and I'm blocking my eyes to shield myself from strong visuals, laughing out loud with the few bits of humor, and feeling strongly for the main characters. That damn phone. Before I let the person on the other end finish asking me about signing up for new long distance or something like that, I had already hung up and resumed the movie. I didn't know where I was anymore. "What's going on," I asked and empty room? No answer. I just had to continue on and hope it all came back to me. But now I'm staring at the phone instead of the television, and I'm checking my watch to see exactly how long it'll be before that damn pho… Phone's ringing again. It was Lisa again, asking me if I finished the movie. I told her that I hadn't and that I'd call her as soon as I did. Very understanding and very loving, she gets off the phone again. I zoned out. I wondered why the movie wasn't 'moving', and then I realized that it was still paused. I'd been doing so much pausing, I thought that long periods of non-movement was actually part of the movie. I was wrong, I pressed play, and I sat, semi-comfortably, in the middle of the couch. The DVD player said that only one and a half hours had elapsed, but in reality over two had passed. As soon as I noticed this, I had to pause, tell TWO telemarketers (they called in tandem, I guess) to shove it, and get back to my movie that proved little salvation. And that was it. No more interruptions. The movie finished, all by itself, and I watched the credits roll, something I never do, just so I could have a sense of watching a long stretch of motion of the screen uninterrupted. I tried to call Lisa and tell her that the movie was over, and that she could now talk to me at length about whatever topic she wanted, but the phone at her store was out of service. Great. I grabbed a huge sack of pennies I had been saving since I was fresh out of high school, some penny rolling papers, and I went to work putting my penning into neat, fifty cent rolls. The movie over, I switched to baseball and watched the Giants beat the A's. As I watched, I noticed that I rolled fourteen rolls over the course of the fifth, sixth, and seventh innings. I thought it through and wondered if I could get fourteen rolls done over the eighth and ninth innings. As it turned out, I couldn't. Just after the game, I finished the 28th roll as Lisa walked into the house. My day was over, and our day began. |
