I Have A Secret

I have a secret. Other people find me annoying. Just for being me. And there's nothing I can do about it because it's who I am. They don't like it when I complain that my movie watching experience was marred by a blown out speaker and someone needs to get on that right away. They are most likely annoyed because they didn't notice it and think I think they are not "serious" movie watchers (which they aren't), but hey, when you're going to see a movie with Owen Wilson in it, how serious can you get? I just want things to be the way they are supposed to be. Which they aren't. I'm even picky about crappy movies. How can I concentrate on the minutia of the soundtrack so I don't have to watch the atrocities they call entertainment on the screen when the speaker distorts every time there's a musical montage or someone raises their voice in excitement? Now I'm irritated not only by the sophmoric antics on the screen, but also the blatant disregard for viewing (or rather, listening) quality displayed by the theater's management.

Which gets back to the whole reason people don't like me. Because I expect them to take pride in things they do. I expect them to pay attention to their work. And on top of it all, I have a big mouth and am not afraid to use it. If the movie had not been so exhaustingly long, I would have complained to some poor employee on my way out. This is why I am single. This is why I will be alone for the rest of my life. But shh, it's a secret.