I actually went out and had some fun last night. Lisa and I went out to eat. We left a little too late and the restaurant was packed. There was immediate room at the bar and we grabbed a seat. After we ordered, a man and his son walked over to the empty stools right near ours. The man said to his 7-year-old son, “Here son, I’ll let you sit next to the pretty girl, maybe you’ll get lucky.” I ignored the weird ass remark but couldn’t help turning to look at them. The kid stumbled back and I could tell he was embarassed. Ole Daddy then said, “Okay, I’ll sit next to the pretty girl, heh heh heh.” Then it got weird. The father pointed out and described the different beers to his son. “Ya see that, that’s Bud Lite, only pussies drink Bud Lite.” The kid said, “Can I have beer, Dad?” The father replied, “Not here, son.” Little later I heard the dad say, “Well, tomorrow is supposed to be a nice day, maybe I’ll take you to the Yuengling Brewery– supposedly they will let you drink all the beer you want if you pay for a tour.” Lisa and I left distressed and disturbed.
No longer hungry, we went into Philly to see Jet Lag at the Ritz Five. It’s a French Film with Jean Reno and Juliette Binoche. The reviews I read raved about it, but neither Lisa nor I thought it was particularly special. As much as I love to see foreign films, I hate the audience. There is always a group of people who feel the need to demonstrate their grasp of “culture” by laughing a little too loud and a little too long at mildly amusing situations within the movie. The laughs are forced and desperate. HO HO HA HA I GET IT! SEE, I AM SMART AND WORDLY, THIS IS HYSTERICAL HA HA HA! Pisses me off …but not nearly as much as a father training his son to be an alcoholic and womanizer.