Let me tell you about my Saturday. Since we had a gift certifcate, my wife (Amy) and I thought we would go see a matinee of “Pirates of the Caribbean.” I know, I know…going to see a movie of this magnitude during its opening weekend maybe isn’t the best of ideas, and it’s fair to expect some adversity on the logistical side of things (parking, lines, popcorn, etc.), but I wasn’t remotely prepared for what was to come.

I should preface the rest of the story by saying that I live in Newport Beach, the bastion of conservatism in one of America’s most liberal states. As anyone who has seen an episode of “The O.C.” could probably tell you, there aren’t too many people going hungry. It is a beautiful beach city, but it’s also a city of opulence and decadence. Soccer moms drive their 2.3 kids around in their tricked-out Escalades, Expeditions or Excursions, while their husbands (or ex-husbands) tool around in their sports cars, usually Porsches or Mercedes. Their kids aren’t really held accountable, and some of those kids do make it to adulthood.

Back to the movies. After building my own home theater, the only place I’ll go to see the movies these days is the Big Newport 6, across from Fashion Island. It has a giant theater that never sells out and has one of the biggest screens in the state. We planned to get there early so we could get decent seats – here’s how it went:

3:10 PM – Arrive at theater for the 3:45 showing only to find a huge line stretching all the way to the trash area. We take our spot at the end of the line and endure the smell of waste for 20 minutes. Shortly after we get in line, a nice couple takes their place behind us and five middle school age boys (5MSAB) are behind them.

3:15 PM – The 5MSAB are loud and obnoxious and begin to (unintentionally, I think) creep up in line, skipping the nice couple behind us. At one point, I hear one of the 5MSAB say, in increasing volume, “Do you know how hard that is? (nobody listening) Do you know how hard that is? (nobody listening) Do you know how hard that is? (nobody listening) Do you know how hard that is?” Generally, if I say something twice and no one is listening, the moment has passed, but you have to respect the kid’s fortitude.

3:18 PM – The bumping begins. The 5MSAB are in a circle trying to entertain each other for the half hour of their day where they don’t have some external entertainment. Amy and I each get bumped into once as the kids sort of walk around each other to talk to one of their other friends. One of the kids is leaning on a green convertible Jag that’s parked near the line. I’m sure the owner would be happy to see that.

3:35 PM – The line starts to move. We move about twenty feet and stop. One of the kids bumps into Amy again. She’s an Assistant Principal, so she uses her AP voice and says, “Excuse me.” The kid backs off. At this point I’m wondering – where are their parents?

3:37 PM – The line continues to move, slowly. I can feel the group of kids behind me. They have no concept of space. It’s almost like they think that if they climb up our backs it will make the line move faster. Off to the left, out of line, I see a guy dancing around with headphones on, almost like one of those guys you see on the street corner holding a sign, advertising for some apartment complex, only this guy didn’t have a sign.

3:39 PM – Three of the 5MSAB run off to look at a poster for “The Grudge 2” and one of the remaining kids runs right into me. I think that it’s unintentional, because I heard him say “Sorry” three times as I threw him a “What the-?” when he hit me. A few moments later, as Amy is staring at him, he tries a fake smile on her (probably his get-out-of-jail-free card at home) but she just stares at him (with sunglasses on), expressionless.

3:40 PM – A twentysomething man cuts perpendicular to the line, steps over a limp theater rope and walks in the theater’s open side door. The Big Newport is actually a few separate buildings with some outdoor walkways, and as far as I can tell, this guy used the layout to his advantage to sneak into the theater. Apparently, if you act like you own the place, most people will believe that you do.

3:41 PM – Hooray! Two of the 5MSAB’s dads show up as we’re almost in the venue, explaining that it “takes a long time to park.” Only I dropped Amy off at the same time they dropped the 5MSAB off and I found a parking spot within 30 seconds, and there were plenty of other spots available. It’s much more likely that they were at the Irish bar next door downing a couple of beers while they waited for the line to start moving.

3:42 PM – I see that they have one guy taking tickets for the long line. He’s dressed in a suit so he is obviously the manager of the theater. Shouldn’t he know that the line would move faster if two (or more) people were taking tickets? There is a group of people off to the left that the Ticket Guy lets in every so often. We assume that these are people that have tickets to other shows. Headphone Guy is in the group! He stands next to the Ticket Guy for a few seconds and then he sees one of his friends inside (a girl) who opens the door for him. He starts to walk in and the Ticket Guy leaves his post, to retrieve Headphone Guy, who protests, saying that he paid “$16 for the ticket” and calling the Ticket Guy “a liar.” Considering that tickets for the matinee are $7, we wonder if the Ticket Guy has some sort of side deal going on where he charges extra and people can skip the line.

3:43 PM – Hooray! We’re finally in the theater! We skip the long popcorn line and go to find some seats. There weren’t any good seats in the middle section available, so we sit near the aisle in the side section. I’m annoyed that these are the best seats we can get after standing in line for almost 40 minutes. We sit down and “enjoy” the first part of “The 20,” which is the name for the 20 minutes of commercials leading up to the 15-20 minutes of the previews. Joy!

3:45 PM – Headphone Guy is a few rows ahead with a group of friends! I don’t know if I’m more surprised that he got in after calling the manager a liar or that he has a group of friends willing to tolerate his shenanigans. Chances are he’s the annoying brother. I hear him say, “I’m not sitting back here. I can’t even see. I’m going up front.” He then walks to the aisle, only to return to say, “Don’t you want to sit up there? All I’m saying is that you should get ready for a crook’d neck.” He threatens to leave a few more times and I lose interest, as his sibling/friends probably did, years ago.

3:50 PM – I realize that the previews should have started at 3:45, and that the movie is going to start late. I am hungry and I see that the picture is paused on the “Turn off your cell phones” screen, so I go out to stand in the popcorn line. Outside the theater, there is still a line to get in.

4:05 PM – I return to my seat, $5 small popcorn in hand, only to discover that the previews have just started, 20 minutes late. Great. A few rows ahead of me, a man is throwing a tantrum as he is getting kicked out of the venue, saying “I want the name of your manager. (no response) I want the name of your manager. (no response) I want the name of your manager. (no response)” as he walks up the aisle with a theater worker. You’ve got to respect the guy’s fortitude.

4:08 PM – The Angry Man returns to gather his family. He says to his wife, “They’re kicking me out because of something you said. Come on, we’re leaving.” The family gets up and one of the theater workers says something to the Angry Man, and he yells, “Don’t ‘sir’ me. You didn’t have to act like that.” As he walks up the aisle, someone in the audience says, “Don’t yell.” His reply? “Screw you.” Nice.

4:10 PM – Watching a preview of “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby,” I must witness every single funny moment in the movie, effectively ruining it for me. I hate trailers that give away too much.

4:20 PM – A few too-detailed trailers later, the movie finally starts. I know it has a runtime of 2:30, and I’ve already been in my seat for almost 40 minutes and in line 40 minutes before that. Joy!

5:20 PM – After what feels like two hours, I ask Amy what time it is, dismayed at her answer. It’s only been an hour.

5:50 PM – I get hit in the head with a gummi bear.

6:50 PM – The movie ends. As people storm out of the theater, Amy and I marvel at how much trash everyone leaves behind. One lady next to us left about 40 separate candy wrappers on the ground beneath her seat. Looking at the rows around us, I’d estimate that 95% of the patrons just left their empty popcorn baskets and soda cups for the theater people to pick up. I grew up in Wisconsin, and that number is probably closer to 30% there. I was always taught to clean up after myself, but apparently my counterparts in Newport Beach were not.

I realize that this why the movie had to start late. It must take forever to clean the theater between showings, but had the previous group of people disposed of even half of their own trash, the process would have been a lot smoother. Sure, the theater is mostly to blame – they could do any number of things to make movie-going more enjoyable. Why don’t they use multiple ticket takers? Why don’t they get inventive, and have people selling popcorn and soda inside the theater like ballparks do? (I suppose the mad rush followed by two hours of dead time would make staffing such a business model difficult.) Why don’t they make an announcement before (and after) the show, asking everyone to take their trash with them? Certainly, that would guilt a certain percentage into cleaning up after themselves.

So, at 6:55, four hours after we left for the theater, we finally leave it. I can’t wait until the movie industry figures out a way to profitably deliver first-run movies to the home. I’d happily pay $10 to use my own equipment to watch a movie when it premieres.

Until then, no more opening weekends at the theater for me.