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Red flags and red alerts
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Sometimes in life we have to do things we don’t really want to do. For instance, talking to neighbors who are in their 80s and have one story to tell, over and over again. Taking the trash out. The worst part about that is lifting the lid on the garbage can to find that critters have made it their version of a “Dine ‘n Dash.”

I had my head bangin’ on a brick wall episode when I took Sunnybuns to the movies on Saturday.

Now, I normally don’t get too fidgety about doing that because I just lose myself in the popcorn and Coke, and toss in an occasional Milk Dud for good luck. Sunnybuns happens to prefer R-rated movies, because there is a lot more action or shoot ‘em up type stuff that I can relate to.

He is a reincarnated military general of some sort, as that is what his life revolves around. My dining room table is the military staging area for all of his planes, trucks and helicopters.

The living room floor holds the tanks, ships and personnel. He is all about strategic planning. Can’t get him to see the pattern in the mess that is his bedroom, but his military stuff is beyond the pale when it comes to organization.

For a few weeks he’s been pestering me about seeing the new Disney pic “Wall-E.” The ads were just too tantalizing for him. I was really surprised by his keen interest in seeing the movie, but at the same time dreading the ear splitting experience that I knew it would be.

Saturday we head out about 45 minutes earlier than normal as I expect there to be throngs of people waiting in line at the ticket booth, and even more in the dismally slow snack line.

We walk up to the kiosk amidst tens of other people, and someone has scribbled a sign that the first showing of “Wall-E” is sold out. I grab his hand saying, “There is another theatre showing it in an hour!” and we dash for the car.

We drive across town to the other theatre and there is one person ahead of us in line. I hear him asking for a ticket to the same movie. Just one. Not two. My little red flags went up. Why is this mid-50-something-year-old man going to see a Disney picture? When he turned around, my brain immediately kicked into “profiling’”mode. Sorry, but when you have kids, that happens. I could easily see him holding up the black and white plate that shows his name and arrest number. The guy just looked like a total perv. Sorry, but he did. You mamas out there know exactly what I’m talking about.

As he left the ticket booth and went inside, I asked for two tickets and had that third eye in the middle of my forehead pop out and follow his every move.

He got his goodies and went into the theater, and we got ours, ducking into the same one.

He sat on the aisle, about three rows up from the entryway. I was sorely tempted, and I do mean that seriously, to trip and dump my drink on him, just to get him to leave. I would have feigned my apology and humbleness, but it would have gotten him out the door. Instead I stopped right beside him to pretend to look around the theater, my third eye trained on him with a laser beam. There were only about five other people in the movie theatre, all seemingly safe bets. Sunnybuns and I climbed our way to the top.

By the time the movie started, the theater was packed. There were gobs of toddlers and little children in the theatre, and it was a noisy scene.

I didn’t pay much attention to the movie as I was concerned about the dude sitting too conveniently close to the escape route. Sunnybuns had to go to the loo twice during the movie, and both times I went with him and made him use the ladies room. As long as he’s with me and under the age of 18, he’s using the ladies room.

Dude down in front didn’t budge from his seat. I was mentally locking him into it. Even amidst the cacophony that is a G-rated film, and I mean there were some future hog callers in that audience, my mental powers were on full alert.

As soon as that movie ended, we bolted. Dude sat there as people had to squeeze past him to get out, pretending to watch the credits. As we stepped down past him, I prayed for some baby to barf Skittles on him.

I think there should be a new movie ruling, to go along with the R rating “no one under 18 admitted without adult supervision.” It should be for G and PG-13 movies. “If you’re an adult male without an escort, we will take your photo and post it out in the lobby.” If you are an adult male going to a G or PG film, especially without kids in tow, don’t embarrass yourself. Stay home and wait for it to come out on video. If you don’t, I might have to trip and dump my Coke on you.