I took one of my former students, Emma, to see a movie tonight. Circumstance selected The Dark Knight Rises for us, marking my third time seeing it. I think the movie is fabulous, so I didn't really mind, in spite of my advising my mom to not go see it.
After everything that happened in Colorado and the copycat scares, I just don't think a trip to the theater is worth it. The movie will be out on DVD soon enough. But I didn't apply this rule to myself, considering South Korea's strict gun control laws. However, I grew up in America, with one of my earliest memories being the horror of Columbine (I was in elementary school... I'm sure I could remember further back if it wasn't so late right now), and, therefore, an awareness of gun possibilities in various occasions is deeply engrained in me. Plus, I'll admit that I'm a bit overly-paranoid, and am always aware of what is in my purse that can be quickly turned into a weapon.
So when, halfway through Batman tonight, a member of the audience got up and started fiddling with the emergency exit, I immediately found a new focus for my attention. I pulled my Cannon Power Shot from my purse, along with a particularly sharp pen, and began contemplating the best place to hit a man with said improvised rock to incapacitate him and/or crush his skull.
I'm pretty fond of it, but it caught me by surprise when everything was digital on it.
I'd still prefer to upgrade to something with more manual options, but with some practice,
the digital manual options are workable.
When I saw him cross in front of the audience and linger in the middle (really, directly in front of me, as I was sitting in the first row), I slowly began sliding to the front edge of my seat, so as to lose no time trying to get out of it. I slid my cell phone in my back pocket. Having found myself phoneless in my last major emergency situation (my car crash), I never intend for it to happen again.
He scanned the audience and quickly moved to the other fire exit, which he shook several times, quietly. When it wouldn't open, he sprinted out the main entrance/exit, and I didn't see him again, although I was definitely looking. Every time I saw someone's shadow growing larger as they came down the hall to that door, I was distracted from the movie to stare and make sure they didn't look extra-lumpy. I did get distracted by the movie at one point, and, when I noticed someone standing there, I jumped so high that I scared Emma. She definitely knew something was up, but she never asked about it.
It turned out to be nothing, but it was definitely an adrenaline-inducing experience. I couldn't help but find myself thinking, "They may have gun control laws, but that's what keeps them from anticipating something like this." Furthermore, as we were sitting in the front row, I felt so helpless, knowing that there would be little to nothing I could do to protect Emma; there were no chairs in front of us to help protect her, even if I got her to the floor.
But what shook me more, was realizing that I, the girl who constantly preaches pacifism and that people have no right to kill each other (without specific exception from G-d Himself), was plotting the fastest/easiest way to kill this man, assuming he made one blatantly wrong move. I'm not sure what to do with that realization, aside from a lot of prayer and research. If I come up with anything, I'll be sure to let you know.
So that was the excitement for the evening. I'm thinking that may have to end up being my last in-theater viewing of Batman for this generation. Like I told my mom, it's just not worth it.