So, over here in the UK most credit cards don't have a black magnetic strip like in the states. Instead, they have a little microchip at their tip. Brits insert the card into a special slot which reads the chip, but which is incapable of reading an American-style card (referred to in this part of the world as a "swipe").
This means that I, with my lowly american black stripped card, have to inform the cashier of my backwards and barbaric ways. I have to make a tense, apologetic smile, hold my card between the very tips of my fingers as I wave it in the air, and meekly mumble, "I have a swipe."
Usually these magic words elicit a look of annoyance from the cashier and perhaps a few people in line behind me. This is because reading a swipe card requires a different piece of machinery (which has no doubt been gathering dust on the checkout counter). While this only takes about 15 seconds longer than using a proper card, I guess it's enough to prompt the bitter looks.
Once, instead of a bitter look, I got this refreshingly direct response:
Cashier: Your total is £10.95
Me: I have a swipe.
Cashier: ...why?
In any case, it's a fifty-fifty shot of whether the customer can do the swiping themselves or if the cashier needs to do it.
Now, I really don't mind asking "Do I swipe it or do you?" but at least five times the cashier has replied, "You can do it," then immediately took the card away from me and did it himself. Maybe "you can do it" means something different here...maybe it means, "you can't do it."
The final step of the process is the customer has to sign a copy of the receipt. Pretty standard, right? Except over here they pour a lot of energy into comparing the signature on the receipt to the signature on the back of your card (in the US, I never even had a signature on the back of my card).
One of my first nights here I made the mistake of squiggling a quickie signature at a Subway. The cashier actually threw his head back in shock when he compared it to the one on my card and said, "No...no, these don't look the same." Thankfully, he mustered up the mercy to let me buy my £3 sandwich without going through a DNA test.
Just about an hour ago I was buying groceries and the time came to sign the receipt. Only this time, the ink in the pen was low.
Me: Oh, this one is low on ink. It's hard to write with.
Cashier: That's ok, just sign it.
Me: Ok. I signed it.
Cashier: ...why did you sign it different than on your card?
Me: ...because the ink is low. It's hard to write with.
At this point the cashier produced a new pen and handed it to me. She told me to sign it again, and watched my every move like a hawk. Apparently, I was now a person of interest.
So here I was, signing my own name, buying groceries (the least steal-someone's-card-and-buy-things-with-it thing I can imagine), nervous that my signature will not be up to this woman's expectations of what my signature should look like.
It's a mad, mad, mad, mad world.
The Ayrton Blog
Tuesday 2 December 2014
Monday 1 December 2014
In the footsteps of Dickens
An "mp3 walking tour" is where someone posts an audio file online, giving you directions of certain paths to walk in any given city. As you walk, the narrator gives you interesting facts and anecdotes about the area you're exploring. It's very much like having a tour guide, except it's free, at your own pace, and there's zero likelihood of your tour guide being a grumpy old man who hates his job (we've all been there, amiright?)
I found a tour online which is based on the novel Oliver Twist. As you follow the path you are actually retracing the steps that Oliver and John Dawkins ("the Artful Dodger") took to enter London for the first time! (Yes, I understand that Oliver and the Dodger are fake people who never walked on any streets because they were never alive...I'm just trying to make this story more exciting...jeeze, you're such a spoilsport...you're like that grumpy tour guide!)
So, there I was, walking along the streets where Dickens placed his immortal novel, being fed facts about the area, and being read excerpts of the book itself.
One such excerpt, was this one:
"As John Dawkins objected to their entering London before nightfall, it was nearly eleven o'clock when they reached the turnpike at Islington. They crossed from the Angel into St. John's Road; struck down the small street which terminates at Sadler's Wells Theatre; through Exmouth Street and Coppice Row; down the little court by the side of the workhouse; across the classic ground which once bore the name of Hockley-in-the-Hole; thence into Little Saffron Hill; and so into Saffron Hill the Great: along which the Dodger scudded at a rapid pace, directing Oliver to follow close at his heels."
Let's take a closer look at those locations mentioned...
"They crossed from the Angel..."
"...into St. John's road..."
(Though it's St. John's Street here...quit trying to ruin my fun!)
"...struck down the small street which terminates at Sadler's Wells Theatre..."
(Pictured here, still in operation!)
"thence into Little Saffron Hill; and so into Saffron Hill the Great..."
(It's hard to read, but the street sign on the left of the picture says "Saffron Hill.")
Pretty cool, huh!? But there's more too. After The Dodger takes Oliver to meet Fagin...
Who lived somewhere around here!
Fagin and his group of orphans take Oliver to go steal the handkerchiefs of rich people.
"They were just emerging from a narrow court not far from the open square in Clerkenwell, which is yet called, by some strange perversion of terms, 'The Green'."
It's Clerkenwell Green, people!
Oliver is then caught in his attempted robbery and dragged away by the crowd to the local courthouse.
"The crowd had only the satisfaction of accompanying Oliver through two or three streets, and down a place called Mutton Hill, when he was led beneath a low archway, and up a dirty court, into this dispensary of summary justice, by the back way. It was a small paved yard into which they turned."
Again, let's take a closer look at the description...
"...beneath a low archway..."
"...and up a dirty court..."
"...into this dispensary of summary justice, by the back way..."
This area, now covered with apartments, used to be a courthouse. In the novel, the judge is named Mr. Fang. In real life, the judge of this courthouse was named Mr. Lang.
So, that was my day! I think'll I'll look up more tours like this.
Or I could put it this way: "Please, sir, I want some more."
Thursday 20 November 2014
A Tale of Three Meetups...
There's a thing called Meetup.com where you can find people with similar interests and organize them all for a get-together. It's a great method for meeting people, particularly if you're in a new city.
I like to meet people. I'm in a new city. I like great methods!
The first meetup I went to had a general geek theme. Fans of science fiction, fantasy, comic books, animation, etc. (I'm a HUGE fan of et cetera!) were all welcome to meet in a pub and talk about their obsessions.
I went, and it was pretty great! There were about 30 people there and I got to have a good, long discussion with about eight. I met a man in his late 50s who loves comic books, a man in his early 20s who loves Tolkien, and a man in his 40s who may or may not be a pathological liar (if you want more details, you'll have to speak with me in person).
The next meetup I went to wasn't actually organized through meetup.com, but I couldn't very well name this blog entry "A Tale of Two Meetups and One Thing That Was Posted on an Art Gallery's Website." There's an art gallery named The Horse Hospital, after the previous function of their building (which may give you a clue to how old this in-the-middle-of-the-city building really is). They occasionally screen films there and they were screening a British made-for-TV movie called Penda's Fen. Now, I had never heard of Penda's Fen but I went because they were screening the movie using an actual 16mm film strip on an old-timey projector (as opposed to most theaters which have switched to digital projection). I thought it would be cool to check out...turns out I was wrong...it was actually SUPER COOL!
The third meetup I went to was a brand new one where people get together to discuss religion and philosophy. That was super fun and informative, mainly because everyone came from such a diverse background. In addition to four or so Brits we had two Italians, two Arabs, a Frenchman, and me, the only Yankee. The discourse was interesting, fun, and (almost) always very respectful.
There was, however, one fellow who made it a point to nitpick every single statement made, even somethings fairly basic and obvious to everyone else in the room. At one point, after about 90 minutes of this, I made a comment and he said, before I even finished my thought, "Well, I disagree." I nodded my head and stated, very simply, "Of course you do." It got a good laugh from the whole room, except for the disagree-er himself, who I don't think even heard me...he was to busy launching into his nitpicky objection.
Nevertheless, all three meetups were super fun and I intend to do more of them, not only here in London, but even back in CA!
I like to meet people. I'm in a new city. I like great methods!
The first meetup I went to had a general geek theme. Fans of science fiction, fantasy, comic books, animation, etc. (I'm a HUGE fan of et cetera!) were all welcome to meet in a pub and talk about their obsessions.
I went, and it was pretty great! There were about 30 people there and I got to have a good, long discussion with about eight. I met a man in his late 50s who loves comic books, a man in his early 20s who loves Tolkien, and a man in his 40s who may or may not be a pathological liar (if you want more details, you'll have to speak with me in person).
The next meetup I went to wasn't actually organized through meetup.com, but I couldn't very well name this blog entry "A Tale of Two Meetups and One Thing That Was Posted on an Art Gallery's Website." There's an art gallery named The Horse Hospital, after the previous function of their building (which may give you a clue to how old this in-the-middle-of-the-city building really is). They occasionally screen films there and they were screening a British made-for-TV movie called Penda's Fen. Now, I had never heard of Penda's Fen but I went because they were screening the movie using an actual 16mm film strip on an old-timey projector (as opposed to most theaters which have switched to digital projection). I thought it would be cool to check out...turns out I was wrong...it was actually SUPER COOL!
I intentionally sat in the back, next to the projector. Once they started up the film I heard that great whiiiring sound as the film was fed through the machine, and the classic film strip count-down danced across the screen.
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, (spliced in frame of some 70s girl's high school picture), 4, 3, 2, 1...
The movie started and it looked pretty great! You know that faded, orange-tinted quality of pictures when they've been sitting in a drawer for 30 years? Just imagine if the bell-bottom wearing people in those pictures started moving around and talking before your very eyes! The story of the movie was pretty interesting too...but the main thing was seeing it on 16mm!
After the screening I went and had a little chat with the projectionist, who I knew wouldn't mind me geeking out about how cool it was. She said that the picture of the girl they spliced into the countdown was actually a very common thing. It was usually tradition for the film lab technicians to put in a picture of one of their female co-workers. I have since done some more research and found out these girls are referred to in the industry as "china girls" most commonly, or sometimes "leader ladies."
The third meetup I went to was a brand new one where people get together to discuss religion and philosophy. That was super fun and informative, mainly because everyone came from such a diverse background. In addition to four or so Brits we had two Italians, two Arabs, a Frenchman, and me, the only Yankee. The discourse was interesting, fun, and (almost) always very respectful.
There was, however, one fellow who made it a point to nitpick every single statement made, even somethings fairly basic and obvious to everyone else in the room. At one point, after about 90 minutes of this, I made a comment and he said, before I even finished my thought, "Well, I disagree." I nodded my head and stated, very simply, "Of course you do." It got a good laugh from the whole room, except for the disagree-er himself, who I don't think even heard me...he was to busy launching into his nitpicky objection.
Nevertheless, all three meetups were super fun and I intend to do more of them, not only here in London, but even back in CA!
To make it up to you...
Hi everyone!
Oop, wait. Let me wipe the cobwebs from my keyboard...
asdrxctfgvyuihjokpl[;]'wqaertyuiop[]xzcbnm,.q23w4e5rtygulihojpml[,;].
(That was me wiping the cobwebs from my keyboard...get it? Because my hand was running across the keys...oh, you got it the first time...sorry.)
Here we are at the ol' blog again! Things have been rather busy over here. I'd come home from a long day of adventuring and see my laptop staring at me from across the room. "Blog," it proclaimed, "blog tonight and blog forevermore!"
Finally, after about a week of resisting, I turned to my possessed laptop and replied: "...m'kay, whatever."
I will post about my adventures very soon (like, within 20 minutes) but I wanted to dedicate this post to explaining why I haven't been blogging, apologize, and make it up to you by including an Ayrton-blog fan favorite...FUN WITH SIGNS!
Oop, wait. Let me wipe the cobwebs from my keyboard...
asdrxctfgvyuihjokpl[;]'wqaertyuiop[]xzcbnm,.q23w4e5rtygulihojpml[,;].
(That was me wiping the cobwebs from my keyboard...get it? Because my hand was running across the keys...oh, you got it the first time...sorry.)
Here we are at the ol' blog again! Things have been rather busy over here. I'd come home from a long day of adventuring and see my laptop staring at me from across the room. "Blog," it proclaimed, "blog tonight and blog forevermore!"
Finally, after about a week of resisting, I turned to my possessed laptop and replied: "...m'kay, whatever."
I will post about my adventures very soon (like, within 20 minutes) but I wanted to dedicate this post to explaining why I haven't been blogging, apologize, and make it up to you by including an Ayrton-blog fan favorite...FUN WITH SIGNS!
No, he gives me life insurance...I don't really feel he owes me more than that...
This is a PSA about looking both ways before crossing the street...showing a car-stricken corpse staring directly into the camera with her cold, dead eyes...IS THIS REALLY NECESSARY!?
Taking the humans as road-kill thing one creepy step further...this whole city needs to see a shrink!
London: creative with depictions of death, unimaginative with cereal names.
I especially like "enjoy essential nutrients."
"I say Margaret, this folic acid and zinc is absolutely delectable!"
Look how excited the British Snap, Crackle, and Pop are.
"SHAPES!"
Thursday 13 November 2014
It's been a long, long, time...
Hi there!
It's been a while. There're actually a few reasons for that:
1) We moved to Des' new flat which originally did not have internet so it was hard to publish a WEB-blog with no internet,
2) Also, because we didn't have internet, it was harder to plan activities for myself, so there wasn't actually that much to report to you guys,
3) I' went back to writing my own fiction, which means I was already spending a lot of time sitting at my computer writing and wasn't in the mood to write the blog too (especially since not that much has happened).
But, over the past few days, enough interesting things have accumulated that I decided to dust off the ol' blog and give you good people an update.
I'd been going to the local Starbucks frequently because, for the price of an orange juice, I had a place to sit down and access the internet (check my e-mail, talk to people back home, etc). Although at first I went there only as an excuse to use their free internet, I grew to really like the Notting Hill Starbucks environment.
My first night there, the manager walked around the store, handing customers free paninis! "These are for you to try," she said, "they're our new Christmas paninis." Now, most places, when they have a new food item, will expect you to bear all the risk of trying it out: just buy it and if you don't like it then better luck next time! The occasional establishment will find it in their corporate hearts to offer you a small sample of the new dish, upon request. But, if you want more than a mouthful, you'll need to fork over your cash. This Starbucks, however, gave us a whole, 6-inch panini...no charge!
I went back in the next day, and the Mystical Giving Manager was there again. Rather than offering me more free food, however, she offered me a "Hey, you were here last night!" greeting, and a high-five! How cool is that, I thought, there's no way this will ever get weird or creepy!
It got a little weird and creepy.
One day I ordered a cheese and ham sandwich. As they delivered it to me, the server said, "This one has way more cheese than usual, sorry about that." No apologies necessary my friend.
So far so good, but Des came home one day and mentioned how she'd been to Starbucks. Somehow (by the hand of Fate?) she mentioned that she'd ordered a three cheese sandwich. "The guy said that it had way more cheese..."
"More cheese than usual!?" I interrupted. She gave me a yeah-how-do-you-know look.
Now, I've seen a lot of movies, and whenever a nice group of people are revealed to have some sort of script they follow when dealing with new people....it's usually a sign that they are a group of man-eating aliens. The free paninis were no doubt meant to fatten us up!
I still think I'll be going back there, though...those paninis sure were delicious...
It's been a while. There're actually a few reasons for that:
1) We moved to Des' new flat which originally did not have internet so it was hard to publish a WEB-blog with no internet,
2) Also, because we didn't have internet, it was harder to plan activities for myself, so there wasn't actually that much to report to you guys,
3) I' went back to writing my own fiction, which means I was already spending a lot of time sitting at my computer writing and wasn't in the mood to write the blog too (especially since not that much has happened).
But, over the past few days, enough interesting things have accumulated that I decided to dust off the ol' blog and give you good people an update.
I'd been going to the local Starbucks frequently because, for the price of an orange juice, I had a place to sit down and access the internet (check my e-mail, talk to people back home, etc). Although at first I went there only as an excuse to use their free internet, I grew to really like the Notting Hill Starbucks environment.
My first night there, the manager walked around the store, handing customers free paninis! "These are for you to try," she said, "they're our new Christmas paninis." Now, most places, when they have a new food item, will expect you to bear all the risk of trying it out: just buy it and if you don't like it then better luck next time! The occasional establishment will find it in their corporate hearts to offer you a small sample of the new dish, upon request. But, if you want more than a mouthful, you'll need to fork over your cash. This Starbucks, however, gave us a whole, 6-inch panini...no charge!
I went back in the next day, and the Mystical Giving Manager was there again. Rather than offering me more free food, however, she offered me a "Hey, you were here last night!" greeting, and a high-five! How cool is that, I thought, there's no way this will ever get weird or creepy!
It got a little weird and creepy.
One day I ordered a cheese and ham sandwich. As they delivered it to me, the server said, "This one has way more cheese than usual, sorry about that." No apologies necessary my friend.
So far so good, but Des came home one day and mentioned how she'd been to Starbucks. Somehow (by the hand of Fate?) she mentioned that she'd ordered a three cheese sandwich. "The guy said that it had way more cheese..."
"More cheese than usual!?" I interrupted. She gave me a yeah-how-do-you-know look.
Now, I've seen a lot of movies, and whenever a nice group of people are revealed to have some sort of script they follow when dealing with new people....it's usually a sign that they are a group of man-eating aliens. The free paninis were no doubt meant to fatten us up!
I still think I'll be going back there, though...those paninis sure were delicious...
Sunday 9 November 2014
The Dichotomous Bouncer
(Written the 9th, concerning the 8th...ya know how I do)
It was a very mellow day.
Des, Alec, and I went to brunch at a bowling alley/restaurant. The food was quite tasty and the employees were quite sassy (in a good way). When we were done eating a fellow came and cleared out dishes. He also started collecting the catsup so I decided to give him a hand and slide the hot sauce closer to him.
His response (remember, this is with a british accent), "Oh, so this is you helping me, is it? Sliding the sauce from there to here. Yeah, big help... I've got an afternoon rush coming in, THAT would be the time to actually help me."
Just written out in blog form that sounds horribly rude, but his inflection and attitude were actually really funny and I could tell he was joking (albeit in a dry, poker-faced way).
After that we hung out in the flat a while. Caught some rugby on TV.
That evening we went to a birthday party for an American friend of Des's. I thought it might be weird to go but Des and her friend both insisted I come along. "Well, I won't insult you by saying no...."
The party was in the basement of a downtown London pub. At the front door there was a man checking that everyone entering was of the drinking age (which is 18 here), but his approach was most unique. He'd point at people as they came in and make one of two proclamations: "18, in you go!" or "16, let's have your ID!"
Apparently, 18 and 16 are the only possible ages. While I was proclaimed to 18, the 30 year-old birthday girl was selected out for further screening. In his defense, she did have a very young-looking face.
The party went on for quite a while. There were exceptionally delicious tater tots (which apparently are rare in this country to begin with), crispy chicken wings, and cheese-stuffed burgers.
With my first bite of said burger an explosion of cheese erupted into my face and up my sleeve (like, to the shoulder)! They jam-packed that thing!
The people there provided very interesting conversation (a Russian-born American lawyer turned British graphic designer, and an aspiring British novelist, to name only two).
All in all, a lovely time!
It was a very mellow day.
Des, Alec, and I went to brunch at a bowling alley/restaurant. The food was quite tasty and the employees were quite sassy (in a good way). When we were done eating a fellow came and cleared out dishes. He also started collecting the catsup so I decided to give him a hand and slide the hot sauce closer to him.
His response (remember, this is with a british accent), "Oh, so this is you helping me, is it? Sliding the sauce from there to here. Yeah, big help... I've got an afternoon rush coming in, THAT would be the time to actually help me."
Just written out in blog form that sounds horribly rude, but his inflection and attitude were actually really funny and I could tell he was joking (albeit in a dry, poker-faced way).
After that we hung out in the flat a while. Caught some rugby on TV.
That evening we went to a birthday party for an American friend of Des's. I thought it might be weird to go but Des and her friend both insisted I come along. "Well, I won't insult you by saying no...."
The party was in the basement of a downtown London pub. At the front door there was a man checking that everyone entering was of the drinking age (which is 18 here), but his approach was most unique. He'd point at people as they came in and make one of two proclamations: "18, in you go!" or "16, let's have your ID!"
Apparently, 18 and 16 are the only possible ages. While I was proclaimed to 18, the 30 year-old birthday girl was selected out for further screening. In his defense, she did have a very young-looking face.
The party went on for quite a while. There were exceptionally delicious tater tots (which apparently are rare in this country to begin with), crispy chicken wings, and cheese-stuffed burgers.
With my first bite of said burger an explosion of cheese erupted into my face and up my sleeve (like, to the shoulder)! They jam-packed that thing!
The people there provided very interesting conversation (a Russian-born American lawyer turned British graphic designer, and an aspiring British novelist, to name only two).
All in all, a lovely time!
Saturday 8 November 2014
Christopher Nolan and the Avant Garde
(Posted the 8th, concerning the 7th...you get the drill)
I helped Des and Alec move some luggage to their new flat (apartment) in Notting Hill.
The new flat is nestled snuggly about ten feet below street level. A small set of stairs leads down from the sidewalk to a cozy courtyard which, in turn, leads to the flat's front door.
The front door is painted magenta and its door knob is placed smack-dab in the middle of the door, hobbit-style! The keys to the front door are of the old-timey mortice key variety. If this door were any more charming, I'd have been turned into a frog!
Inside the flat we met a kindly chap (a "chap" is like a "bloke" but he pays his child support on time) who was the house inspector. He gave the flat a through look-over and declared it to be in great condition!
After that, we went to a local mall where Alec and I saw the new Christopher Nolan movie, Interstellar, while Des did some shopping.
We had pre-ordered our movie tickets online for the 4pm showing but decided we wanted to see the earlier, 3pm, showing. The theatre management was totally cool with that and let us just walk on back to the screening rooms without going to the trouble of printing us new tickets. Though it did make us a few minutes late to the show time.
We went to the screen marked on our tickets and had a seat. The movie had already started without us but, at the most, we'd only missed a couple minutes.
The beginning of the movie was rather confusing. Characters, locations, and robots were being flung at us with no explanation or introduction.
"What an intriguing way to start a movie" I thought, "It almost feels like it's the end of a different movie...like, Christopher Nolan decided to make a sequel without ever making the first one. How daring and bold!"
Then the music started to kick in...sweeping organ music that slowly built higher and higher...as if it were going to reach a climax very soon.
"Even the soundtrack sounds like it's from the end of a movie! Man, Nolan is really running all the way with this. He truly is a cutting-edge artist."
Only, it didn't feel at all like a beginning any more. Not even a cutting-edge beginning. It totally felt like the end of a movie.
I turned to Alec and whispered: "Is this the end of the movie?"
Three seconds later the credits starting rolling.
"Oooooooooh! That makes SO much more sense."
Turns out, we went to the screen listed on our tickets, but our tickets, and the screen listed on them, were still for the 4pm show. We were catching the tail end of the 1pm showing at that same screen.
We left the theatre asked the management where the heck the 3pm showing was and he told us. We were officially 15 minutes late to the movie now.
BUT, thank goodness for long previews. We got there in plenty of time to watch the movie from the start. It was really, really good despite the fact that we already knew how it ended.
After that, we went back to the original flat (not the new one, we don't move there until Monday) and went to sleep.
"Don't give away the ending -- it's the only one we have!"
- Alfred Hitchcock
I helped Des and Alec move some luggage to their new flat (apartment) in Notting Hill.
The new flat is nestled snuggly about ten feet below street level. A small set of stairs leads down from the sidewalk to a cozy courtyard which, in turn, leads to the flat's front door.
The front door is painted magenta and its door knob is placed smack-dab in the middle of the door, hobbit-style! The keys to the front door are of the old-timey mortice key variety. If this door were any more charming, I'd have been turned into a frog!
Inside the flat we met a kindly chap (a "chap" is like a "bloke" but he pays his child support on time) who was the house inspector. He gave the flat a through look-over and declared it to be in great condition!
After that, we went to a local mall where Alec and I saw the new Christopher Nolan movie, Interstellar, while Des did some shopping.
We had pre-ordered our movie tickets online for the 4pm showing but decided we wanted to see the earlier, 3pm, showing. The theatre management was totally cool with that and let us just walk on back to the screening rooms without going to the trouble of printing us new tickets. Though it did make us a few minutes late to the show time.
We went to the screen marked on our tickets and had a seat. The movie had already started without us but, at the most, we'd only missed a couple minutes.
The beginning of the movie was rather confusing. Characters, locations, and robots were being flung at us with no explanation or introduction.
"What an intriguing way to start a movie" I thought, "It almost feels like it's the end of a different movie...like, Christopher Nolan decided to make a sequel without ever making the first one. How daring and bold!"
Then the music started to kick in...sweeping organ music that slowly built higher and higher...as if it were going to reach a climax very soon.
"Even the soundtrack sounds like it's from the end of a movie! Man, Nolan is really running all the way with this. He truly is a cutting-edge artist."
Only, it didn't feel at all like a beginning any more. Not even a cutting-edge beginning. It totally felt like the end of a movie.
I turned to Alec and whispered: "Is this the end of the movie?"
Three seconds later the credits starting rolling.
"Oooooooooh! That makes SO much more sense."
Turns out, we went to the screen listed on our tickets, but our tickets, and the screen listed on them, were still for the 4pm show. We were catching the tail end of the 1pm showing at that same screen.
We left the theatre asked the management where the heck the 3pm showing was and he told us. We were officially 15 minutes late to the movie now.
BUT, thank goodness for long previews. We got there in plenty of time to watch the movie from the start. It was really, really good despite the fact that we already knew how it ended.
After that, we went back to the original flat (not the new one, we don't move there until Monday) and went to sleep.
"Don't give away the ending -- it's the only one we have!"
- Alfred Hitchcock
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