Sober at the cinema

Here’s a side-effect of sobriety I love: being relaxed in a movie.

I love the cinema. Previously, every cinema trip involved drinks before and during. So naturally, the urge to hit the bathroom ramps up. The agony of holding it in because I’m not sure how long there is left, because I don’t want to miss anything crucial to the story, because I don’t want to interrupt others in my row, because I’m on a date and don’t want her to know. Then, finally, the movie ends, only to find out that my row wants to sit and chat through the credits, while I pretend I’m not manically concerned I’m about to blow a bladder. Then there’s the faux-chill walk out to the foyer, making small talk, madly scanning for the bathroom with legs fused together, leaving my feet to do all the work of getting my whole body to the toilet. Oh man, the discomfort I regularly endured for sometimes HALF A FILM. So incredibly ridiculous. Some poor people have to deal with this for medical reasons, but I’m dealing with it cause I’m pouring litres of booze into my body. Absurd.

Now, I can actually watch the film. Like, actually pay attention. And stroll out in my own time, reflect on the film, enjoy the afterglow, chat like a normal person, and not make my date think I’m trying to hide some sort of nervous breakdown. Hallelujah.