My day would have made a great M. Night Shyamalan film...

So, typical lazy Sunday, I decide to take a break from all my relaxing and head out to the local Googleplex. "Lady in the Water" opened this weekend, and I figured that since everyone was proabably going to see Johnny Depp in all his "Sparrow glory", I'd have no problems getting tickets and finding a decent seat 10 minutes before showtime.

After fighting the heat (which I think literally melted someone on the street this afternoon), slow moving vehicles and even slower moving people, it was nice having something go my way for a change. Of course, this wasn't going to last.

In typical ghetto-matinee fashion, people left their cellphones on SUPER LOUD or whatever new Ludicrus ringtone is out nowadays, and there was a ring about every 20 minutes. This hightened the suspense of the film, but definitely not in the intended manner. After the first hour, I think we all got used to it, which is sad when you think about it.

Then, there happened to be this little kid who got lost or something - the boy ran into this lady as she was coming into the theater, and so the lady goes, "DOES THIS CHILD BELONG TO ANYONE HERE? ANYONE?" Well gee, either the boy's parents aren't in this particular theater, or the parents are riddled with so much embarrasment that they've ducked under their seats to avoid accepting the "Horrible Parent of the Year" award. I mean, what the heck, right? Of course, I'm all for keeping kids safe, and, well, not lost, but the lady shouted all this during a pretty important plot point in the film - another reason why there's swiss cheese holes in my overall interpretation of M. Night's work.

Now nearing the 3rd act of the film, some old guy comes in, and takes a seat next to me. Okay, this wouldn't be so weird if the theater was packed, but there were literally 60 seats anywhere, and there was a row in front that had like 4 people in it. I couldn't tell you why he would choose to sit next to me, but God, did this old guy smell. It was like sitting next to a huge bottle of Old Spice, Right Guard and Aqua Velva that had been out in the sun too long. His rancidity was starting to hury my nose, but luckily the theater was pumping out 3,000 BTUs of AC so his waft spread out, and again, I got used to it. So not only was the film creeping me out - so was this guy. Again, another distraction at a crucial point in the film, which will probably force me to catch this film again when it hits cable.

So, even with all this going on, I still had a decent time. The film wasn't that bad, and I was sure that the weirdness was now behind me.

Think again.

As I'm driving out of the mall (where the theater is at), I get behind a minivan that's in front of me. I notice that the back trunk looked a little ajar. Who hasn't had that happen, right? I mean, we all sometimes miss closing it tightly, so I didn't think much of it - until 10 seconds later. As the minivan is speeding off, the trunk flies open, and these shelves and cabinets are flying out the back and tumbling right in front of me! I swerve around the first one, but as the minivan is changing lanes, other pieces of furniture is rolling out. I'm dodging Ikea crap left and right, as if I'm taking a driving test created by the Stuntdriver's School of America.

By the time the minivan pulled over, balsa wood and particle board were all over the road, and luckily, no one seemed to have gotten hurt or crashed. I, on the other hand, needed to find some way to dial down my adrenaline before I crushed the steering wheel with my temporary "Incredible Hulk" grip.

Now, looking back at all this several hours later, I can only suspect that there are worse ways to spend a Sunday...