Marquee Theater can kiss my ass

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.

Lane3?  Chained.

Lane4?  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]

Leave a Reply