52 Thoughts I Had While Going To The Cinema Alone To See A Kid's Film

1. Okay, Bethan's wardrobe, here's today's brief: I am going to see a film - one aimed at pre-secondary school kids and their parents - alone. Our mission, should we choose to accept it, is to not look weird or threatening or suspicious.
   
   
2. There are two potential dress-codes we can go for; we can dress smartly and sensibly to look like an actual adult going about their everyday business, or we could wear camoflague and a ski mask to literally blend into the seat. Or perhaps I could even attempt to fit in with the kid audience by donning dungarees and pigtails. I could probably get away with that, seeing as I'm still regularly ID'd for lottery tickets.
   
   
3. Let's go for a red sleeveless top and pencil skirt, with black tights and shiny black shoes. Paired with trusty Sensible Loose-Fitting and Surprisingly Snuggly Blazer, because it's always cold in the cinema and in my unrealistic imagination fashionable adult women wear either blazers or trench coats.  
   
   
4. Yes, altogether this outfit is rather sensible. Comfortable. Dare I say a little stylish. Lonely Adult with shit together and most definitely not a weirdo. I'm projecting all the correct vibes. Plus if I miraculously find a fellow male single cinema-goer, I'm looking kind of decent today and we can laugh off our hopeless situation together. I'm basically Gok Wan.
   
   
5. Better go for the earliest showing as there's less chance I'll be harassed as there'll be fewer children. Why don't they do separate screenings of kid's films for adults? Or better yet, cinema screenings designed for adults who want to go to the cinema alone? There's a business idea. Singleton Adult Cinema, a place where no children are allowed, where we all either a) politely discuss the film’s merits in an articulate fashion in a classy wine bar afterwards or b) get a free bucket of ice cream to drown our lonely, childless souls in.
   
   
6. Could I borrow someone's kid for the day? I'd look like a teenage mother but at least I'd have a better excuse to see this film. I would look somewhat MILF-ish in this outfit.
   
   
7. Okay. If anyone asks, I'll lie and say I'm a covert film reviewer. No, actually, A covert film reviewer AND a film student. AND the cinema equivalent of a "mystery shopper". That'll really shit 'em. If I just talk about camera angles, "cinematography" (tbh, I'm still not 100% sure that means what I think it means) and the Pixar “ouvre”, and then point out that the hot dog stand looks a like a hotel for salmonella, I’ll blend in no problem.
   
   
8. Lord, there’s a whole PARTY of children in the foyer.  A whole ruddy party, a flock of infants, scattered around the place like hyperactive cockroaches. Damn youths. Whose birthday is it? Is it you, small urchin with the mahoosive slush puppy? Can I ask why you’re spending your birthday party in a cinema at 10:30AM?
   
   
9. Who am I kidding, that’s the ideal way to spend a birthday. I’d like that now at 21. But if we could have unlimited wine refills instead of the slush puppy, that would be mighty lovely.
   
   
10. Anyway, time to join the queue for tickets. Not snacks though. I have an actual grown-up budget I have to stick to.  Hence why I have pre-bought fancy but affordable snacks and hidden them skillfully and expertly in my handbag. Like a boss.
    
    
11. There is a child in front of me crying because her father won’t buy her a full-size tub of popcorn. WELCOME TO THE REAL, CRUSHINGLY-DISAPPOINTING WORLD, ANONYMOUS CHILD.
    
    
12. Can you guys please hurry this along? There are only a finite number of combo meal options and I'm sure your offspring will appreciate any number of them.
    
    
13. Oh boy. Time to make this conversation as un-awkward as possible.
    
    
14. Yes, till attendant. I would like a Student Ticket for That Latest Pixar Film With a U Certificate.
    
    
15. Yes, till attendant, it is just me today. It’s just me. There is no one else. There isn't an invisible person with me and none of those children are mine. I am existentially alone in the universe and surrounded by screaming five year olds. Please make this sale as fast as humanly possible.
    
    
16. Yes, please put me at the back of the cinema. Right at the back. Back row. Back corner. Hell, if you could put me in the projectionist booth that'd be mighty sweet of you. It might seem creepy but at least I can’t be seen.
    
    
17. YES, I CAN CONFIRM THAT I WANT A SINGLE STUDENT TICKET AT THE BACK OF THE CINEMA, WHY ARE YOU SAYING THAT SO LOUDLY.
    
    
18. Mind you, if I were a bald and fat man with glasses I can’t help but feel that conversation might have been a little different.
    
    
19. Oh, Christ, the cinema is packed. There are already people in my row and I'm going to have to do the Awkward Polite Shimmy in front of them to get to my designated seat.
    
    
20. "Terribly sorry, can I just get through to my seat?" *Pause* Alright then, no one move, I'll just awkwardly stumble in front of you and make a tit of myself while wading through the assault course of popcorn buckets, nappy bags and extra large cokes you've all left on the floor.
    
    
21. *Starts shimmying* *Accidentally brushes leg against child's knee* *Winces in horror* *Has heart attack* *Prays child didn't notice*
    
    
22. Okay, I *could* take my designated seat and be law-abiding, or I could sit in that sweet-ass seat over there which is further away from this child next to me with the biggest bucket of popcorn the world has ever seen.
    
    
23. YOLO, REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE OVER HERE TAKING SEAT 12.
    
    
24. Hehehe. Take that, Vue Cinemas! Take that, Capitalism! Take that, The Man, The System and The Patriarchy! I follow no rules. We are the 99%. #OccupySeat12. 
    
    
25. Oh, wait. Here are some more people. A photogenic, happy, nuclear, cereal-packet family out on a lovely trip to the cinema. Walking up the stairs towards the back row. Clearly gunning for the seats in the area I have consciously stolen.
    
    
26. *Shuffles back over to designated seat* Karma always finds a way of rebalancing the universe. At least because I'm in the back row no one will kick my seat. I'll just get assaulted from the front and sides.
    
    
27. Okay, the kid with the popcorn bucket is staring at me and eating so loudly it sounds like he is crunching gravel. I see The Official Wittertainment Code of Conduct won’t be strictly enforced today.
    
    

    

    The Official Guide for the Uninitiated

    
    
28. Time to open my sneakily bought and expertly hidden giant bag of Marks and Spencer giant chocolate buttons. With a bottle of water, not a coke. Because, healthy adult.
    
    
29. I am definitely not going to eat all of these by myself out of boredom while the static adverts are rolling like every single other time I have visited the cinema alone. That would be gluttonous and desperate. Instead, I shall eat four or five, the correct portion size, savouring each chocolatey and middle-class bite as though it were a fine wine.
    
    
30. The Popcorn Bucket Kid has just been handed a Pick 'N' Mix tub from his dad. Pick 'N' mix from the cinema is just dust-covered sugar and germs that's been sitting in the same place since 2003. Rookie error, anonymous dad. 
    
    
31. Annnd his son has just spilt his popcorn all over the floor. Fantastic.
    
    
32. Oh Christ, I’m being observed by a particularly loud kid who won't stop squirming in their seat in the row in front of me. Do I do a friendly smile or give an adult disapproving look complete with under the breath tutting?
    
    
33. Wow. I don’t know what facial expression I just pulled but that came across as both ineffective and grotesque. The kid has turned back around, presumably in fear.
    
    
34. To be fair, I think that seven-year-old me would be frightened if she could have seen twenty-one-year-old me, but perhaps not for the right reasons.
    
    
35. Oh wait, he's laughing. Presumably at my attempts to masquerade as a Faux-responsible adult/Reviewer/Film Student/Cinema Mystery Shopper, and not look like a sad postgraduate with no friends. He's definitely not laughing because a child his age has spilled popcorn on the floor. Even Adam Sandler wouldn't find that funny. I guess the trusty grown-up blazer isn’t quite working.
    
    
36. Wait, what? How did that happen? I've just eaten ALL of the chocolate buttons. Already. In record time. Children make me stress eat, evidently. Now I have no idea what do with myself.
    
    
37. I know what I should do while I wait for the ads! I should Instagram my cinema ticket! Because that won't look desperate or cliched at all. That way my poncy facebook friends in cities with actual lives and friends that live near them will know that, even in the hellhole known as Thurrock, I have a life where I go out and do things.
    
    
    

    

    Not a cliche at all.

    
    
38. Hmm, I'll have to think about what hashtags to add. Should I pretend I'm with someone? No, even for me that's quite sad.
    
    
39. Far better to embrace the solitude and single-handedly remove the stigma of going to the cinema alone and consequently save the entire planet. I'm a grown-ass adult woman who should not be ashamed to do things by herself. In the words of Chaka Khan, I'm every woman, it's all in me.
    
    
40. If this picture with an expertly chosen filter doesn't get at least five sympathy likes, then flying solo at a kid's movie has officially made me an outcast among my friends. I could keep my phone out and obsessively refresh my Facebook profile, but the lights are going down, which means the best part of the cinema experience, ADVERTS AND CINEMA TRAILERS, is happening.
    
    
41. God, these adverts for kids toys are RELENTLESS. And shite. Toys were way better when I was a kid. If nostalgia has taught me anything, it's that in my day we made our own toys. With sticks. And lead-based-paint. And WD-40. And they were much better than this crap.
    
    
42. What the hell are Yummy Nummies and why are they popular? If you want cupcakes, teach your kids to make actual sized cupcakes, rather than using ingredients stored in a Toys R Us for a decade to make small, crap tasting artificial cupcakes. This is the daftest idea known to man.
    
    
43. Hmm. Children are still speaking as the cinema trailers are starting. Do I sush them? Nope. Far Better to sit in silence and avoid any form of confrontation like the plague.
    
    
44. Such Adult. Much Responsibility.
    
    
45. Okay, the film is starting. Any talking from now on, and officially I will activate my super responsible adult sushing powers.
    
    
46. What's that noise? Is that a man SNORING? During the climactic third act? IT IS! That dad of the kid who spilled his popcorn is asleep and SNORING in front of this lovely masterpiece of cinema. Come on bro, you're a dad, you're not supposed to be the problem here. 
    
    
47. AHAHA. His kid has punched him awake. High five kid, you have redeemed yourself. Except not high five, because the film is reaching its emotional finale and if you make a sound I will go Full-On Angry Responsible Shushing Adult on your ass.
    
    
48. Oh man, this U-certificate film is emotional. I'm not crying. I'm not crying. COME ON BETH, IF MOST OF THE KIDS AREN'T CRYING YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO CRY. It's the Law of Adult. 
    
    
49. Oh good! A small girl in the row in front of me is weeping. The sound of her weeping with muffle any accidental sobs that escape my throat as I fight the tears. Thank god for dark cinemas.
    
    
50. The ceiling lights burn my eyes! And now all the kids are running around getting out of their seats while the animation sequence accompanying the credits is rolling. HOW ARE YOU SO SMALL YET STILL RUNNING STRAIGHT ACROSS MY FIELD OF VISION DAMMIT.
    
    
51. I swear, Popcorn Bucket Kid, you had better put your bucket in the nearest appropriate rubbish bin. Actually, none of these children are binning any of their food but instead leaving it scattered on the seats and floor for the cinema staff to collect later. I weep for humanity.
    
    
52. Well, that was far more painful than it needed to be. Maybe I should go for the pigtails next time.