In Which Miss Jill is Humbled By Her Countrywoman

I was excited to have a Honduran friend here in New York for the past few weeks and one thing that she wanted to do was attend Harry Potter 6. My roommate and I decided that the Magic Johnson Theaters in Harlem was our best venue option, which proved to be a very wise decision.

We entered a nearly empty theater and my friend exclaimed, "This is great. No one will be talking on their cell phone or throwing things at us."

I laughed and self righteously said, "That is not how we act at the movies in this country."

Pride cometh before the fall, my friends. A lone woman in the back row struggled to come to terms emotionally with the plot of the film and shared her inner strife with the four other patrons as follows (comments have been slightly censored for my predominately Mormon audience):



"Harry! Don't drink that s@#$!"



"She is DERANGED!"



Ginny: Harry, do you trust me?
Commentator: H@## NO! (Personally, I think her distrust of Ginny is misplaced)



Stands up, "I can't believe this. This ending is @#$@#$@@!#@$!@#$!@#$@#!$#@!$#$@#!$!#@$@#$@#$@#$@!#$!@$!@#$@!#$!@#$@!#$!@#$!@$#@$@#$@#%$%$^%$$^&%&^%&^$#%$#$#@$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I consulted with her briefly and advised that her movie viewing experience may be less traumatic if she invested some time in reading the books but she replied that she couldn't make it past page ten and if there was a book that should be made into a movie it was this "black people book" (her words, not mine) that she had purchased on the street ten years ago.