Tickets, Money, Passport?

Last night Clare & I went to see Troy. It looked pretty and wasn't as badly acted as I'd been told (except of course the very youthful looking Orlando) however it just wasn't very engaging. Peter O'Toole's very stary eyes had their own acting coach. No the best thing about the film was the "Curious Incident of the Nachos in the Cinema".

You see I've never been the kind of person to buy savouries in a cinema. It's chocolate and ice cream all the way for me. (That'll explain my lardiness then). However Clare is one of those people who buys the Nachos that you see for sale. Well I was intruiged, and well, hungry, so convinced her that she should get some.

So she did. The first phase of the 'Curious Incident of the Nachos in the Cinema' began. The "cheese" wasn't ready so the nice lady said "I'll bring them to your seat". Well who can resist that? We sat at our seats, over-excited at the thought of our jealous co-patrons when they saw our 'delivered' nachos. A few minutes in and we were tucking into some "cheese", corn chips and salsa (I was sensibly avoiding the Jalapenos), holding and balancing the lot on the cup holder between our seats.

I turned to Clare and said:

"I'm letting go"

To which she replied in what appeared to be sign language and flung the nachos off the cupholder.

I looked down at my hands, now dripping in "cheese" and salsa. Covered in more than my nachos had ever been.

Naturally we lost it for about ten minutes, much to the amusement I'm sure of our co-patrons of the cinema.

We ended the evening with me wiping what looked like sick off my bag courtesy of the dried up "cheese" and salsa.

Glamourous, neat & tidy ladies we ain't.