My day at the Marquee theater:
- Empty your pockets? WTF?
- TSA pat down from a chick? WTF?
- ID? WTF?
- 70 people showed up. The speaker volume was set for (or to) 1,000.
- 20 security guards, so the Paul Blart ratio was 1:4.
- $6 for a warm cup of Land Shark? WTF?
The most ridiculous part? There are four parking rows leading to the exit. We’re in 2. Cant get out that way – Chained. Lane 1? Chained.
Lane5? Nope, (still) blocked by a fucking temporary fence.
Raoul/Lurlene: How THE FUCK do we get out? We would like to go drink reasonably priced beer, fuck like monkeys and hear ourselves think, please.
$8/hr attendant: Duh. The way you came in.
R/L: You mean Row #2? The one with the fucking chain? The one we came in through TWO HOURS AGO (before the chain went up)
Attendant: There is no spoon chain
*nonchalantly walks over to signal the bone heads who don”t answer their radio page to move the fucking chain*
Attendant. Bet you $100 I am right and it is clear. [Now]