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I arrived at the Mann Village as they were letting people in for the 7:00 PM screening. I waited for ticketholders to clear out and then went and stood behind the velvet rope. First in line for the 10:00 PM screening. I checked my watch. 6:45.

The shit I put up with for good seats.

I grew up in northern California and currently attend school in Los Angeles, both places where people watch a lot of movies. I don't know what it's like to walk up to a cinema box office five minutes before showtime and still find good seats.

7:00. Two people had queued up with me. They brought chairs. I was standing around reading the latest Entertainment Weekly when someone interrupted.

—Excuse me, is this the line for Star Wars: Episode III?

I looked up. The guy who said it was smirking. Cute, I thought. Ha. Ha.

—No.

[pause]

He thought I was no fun and walked away.

It occurred to me soon after that that guy is the same fat fuck usually seen at fanboy movie opening nights in Westwood, the same fuck I saw camped out for Star Wars: Episode II on the sidewalk with a 20" TV playing XBox. Sunglasses on the head, black leather jacket, blue jeans — unmistakable!

How dare he unsuccessfully mock me!

—Excuse me, what are you in line for?
—Is this the line for Kill Bill?
—Are you in line for Kill Bill?
—What is this line for?

The flashing marquee behind me says "Kill Bill: Vol. 1" eight times. The Village has one auditorium. Are you people retarded?

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