Disclaimer:: Anyone who has a problem with sneaking into movies, stop reading here. I'm not interested in being judged by you & your thick wallet.
This is how the other half lives.
The names of the parties involved have been changed to protect them from potential law enforcement troubles. The links, however, are perfectly accurate.
So Betty, Penny, & I set out to sneak into The Walkway Theater Delux on Saturday to see the hit drama "Really Into You" staring Fiance. Now, we only know how to sneak into the first floor of theaters, meaning we can see movies from theaters 1-9. Really Into You was playing in theater 14.
So, as the boot-strappers we are, we proceeded to make lemonade....the lemons being all the horrible action movies playing on the first floor. ..and the boots...those being made for walking.
We split up, divide & conquer, only to discover not one interesting movie playing...UNTIL I stumbled into theater 7!
On the silver screen was a boy. A very good looking boy, with a babyface that would make even a baby jealous. He was in western wear. He had a glimmer of hope in his eye. I was intrigued.
And then he said those seventeen sweet words: "Miley knows Hannah, maybe she could perform at the benefit concert & save old man Weaver's mill!"
Yes friends, theater 7 was playing Hannah Montana. I paged Betty & Penny on their pagers that I had found the holy grail. We spent the next hour or so near-tears, laughing loudly along with our 6-year old neighbors, and genuinely appreciating a teen-boppin cult classic.
I can say with all honesty I enjoyed this film. It was funny, precious, wholesome, and I'd be lying if I said I was only brought to "near-tears".
We walked out feeling great. Sure we felt a little silly...but hey, we didn't pay nothin to see it so really what's the loss? Human dignity, intellectual property, pride? Pish-posh.
But it wasn't until tonight that I helped out at club for San Clemente YoungLife that this whole movie choice move fully made sense to me.
Tonight was a night of hanging out with roughly 60 high school girls. Conversation was a little sticky at first...them looking curiously at my sloppy flanel and greasy skin, me wondering why I chose to wear a greasy flanel & sloppy skin if I were to try to connect with upper-middle class white 16 year old girls.
And then it hit me...
"It's the CLIMBBBBBBBBBBB" resonated in my head and heart. We were all sizing each other up. I needed a common denominator. So I said what any self-respecting twenty two year old woman would in this situation:
"Seriously you guys, how hot is that guy in Hannah Montana?
It was ridin on the gravy train from then on out. I praised the Lord (who is Walt Disney as it ironically turns out) for helping me out. For knitting together my life in a patchwork of confusing decisions, poor movie choices, and moving & shaking to the counterintuitive beat of my heart.
Walt is real and this is my proof.
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