So I attended a showing of Insidious 2 with my future brother in law Grizz last night. We went to a 6:40 show since Grizz had to be up at 6:00 for work at a place that rhymes with Lowgers.
That was our mistake.
What we failed to realize is that a 6:40 showing for a PG-13 flick is going to be PACKED with teenage girls. Now, when I was a teenage girl, I never screamed at a horror movie. Frankly, I’ve never screamed at a movie. Jerked, sure. Clutched Bahamute’s arm, maybe. But screamed? Nope.
The usher was walking the aisles regularly, so talking was kept at a minimum, as was cellphone use. Not completely gone, mind you, but tolerable.
Then, the girl next to me (no older than 14 surely) started talking to me.
“Oh my God, it’s so scary!”
I raised one hand. “It’s fine.”
“But they’re gonna dieeeeeee!” She trembled, blond hair jittering.
“It’s fine. It’s a movie.”
The next thing I knew, her head was in my lap.
I looked across to Grizz. “I don’t--how do I--what do I--Nothing in life has prepped me to deal with this situation!”
Grizz just grinned. Eventually, the girl left the safety of my lap. The screaming continued unabated.
I turned back to Grizz. “Can I dissociate myself from the gender right now?”
But it’s not a gender thing. Plenty of boys were hollering during the jump scares (which sadly, are ramped up from Insidious One’s total of one to about a dozen. Forgivable, but noticeable).
I have to assume it’s a maturity thing. Even when I was thirteen I never squealed at scary movies. I might clap my hands over my mouth, but I never once screamed out, even if I was terrified. I was too conscious of breaking the mood and drawing attention to myself.
But even in my day, there were plenty of girls who were squealers. And I guess there always will be.
