For some reason, there is a real imbalance in the way Rob and I go to the movies. We always seem to make it out to the theater in time to see the latest comic book movie or Star Wars movie or Lord of the Rings, etc. In fact, I’ve sat through more than one midnight showing of a gotta-see geek movie so Rob could see the movie right away. But whenever there is a “chick flick” that I want to see, something always seems to come up that prevents us from getting to the theater to see it.
Don’t get me wrong. This isn’t intentional. Rob is more than willing to go see my movies with me and generally enjoys them too. And I don’t mind sitting through the geeky movies. I am eagerly looking forward to seeing the Avengers (and that is only partially because the guy playing Thor is so yummy and I think Robert Downey Jr. is also gorgeous) and my all-consuming crush on Sean Austin would have definitely endeared the LOTR’s movies to me even if they hadn’t been so good. But after a long stretch of superheroes and jedis and Keanu Reeves bending the fabric of reality, a girl needs a break.
A few years ago, after sitting through many, many of Rob’s movies, I put my foot down. We were supposed to go to the movies with a guy friend of ours and I told the boys that I was sick of only seeing “their movies” and I demanded that we go see a “chick flick.” Rob asked me what constituted a chick flick and I replied “something where nothing explodes.” We decided to see Under the Tuscan Sun. Everything was going great but then we got to a scene where lightning hit a washing machine. The boys just shook their heads (but really couldn’t argue) when I yelled out “Doesn’t count! You have to take me to see another movie!”
Fast forward to this past Thursday. I have been under a lot of stress with finals and writing papers and a lot of family obligations and had fallen behind in getting everything done because I was so sick for so long over spring break. And when we have gone out and done recreational things, it has mostly been things that Rob wanted to do. So when I saw that our local movie theater was showing Casablanca in honor of its 70th anniversary, I asked Rob to take me to see it. I had never seen Casablanca on the big screen and really had only seen it once. Rob, on the other hand, had never seen the movie so it really seemed like a good date. We were sitting in the theater, watching the movie, when we came to the scene where the Germans are about to enter Paris. Rob listened to the cannon fire in the background, looked at me and said “I know. It doesn’t count. I still owe you a ‘chick flick'”