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Marukan came over to my office after work so we could carpool together to the theater in order to see the X-Men movie before all of y’all.

As we were turning left from Santa Monica Boulevard on to Highland:

Me: Look at what that lady across the street is wearing. Oh, wait. That’s not a lady… that’s a man… no, that’s a lady… no, that’s a man… no, that’s got to be a lady… no, it can’t be… no, no, no. I can’t tell.

Marukan: It’s a herm.

Me: …

We stood in the ginormous line with assorted radio contest winners, LA Weekly contest winners and Golden Apple Comic Store raffle winners. Once inside, we headed down to the second row. That turned out to be somewhat of a bad move, since that placed us behind the front row, which was filled with large, sweaty, middle-aged comic-book-collectors with male pattern baldness. All my life I’ve tried to look past stereotypes and now a whole row of them were seated in front of me.

When the radio station people came out to throw t-shirts in to the crowd, the guy in front of us got EIGHT of them. Marukan opined that none of them would fit him anyway. We got zero t-shirts. When they threw hats in to the crowd, the guy next to me snatched up the one that fell on my seat. It was as if he’d never had a hat before in his entire life. I didn’t win the Harley-Davidson given away by Joe Escalante, either.

When the movie started, the front row started making all sorts of comments. I turned to Marukan and said, “It’s as if we’re in the theater with Crow and Tom Servo, but without the funny bits”.

During the film:

Halle Berry: {conjures up some weather}
Me: I want her hairstyle.
Marukan: …
Famke Janssen: {does some killing}
Me: I want her hairstyle.
Marukan: Will you just stop it?

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