'At the Movies' by Jean Feingold

The woman used the movie theatre’s side aisle to reach the empty top row. She sat in
the middle. She put her bottled water in the right hand cupholder and an energy bar in
the left side cupholder before reclining the seat. There were only about 20 people in the
120 seat auditorium.

Before the trailers started, a man walked up. “Hello,” he said. “I don’t enjoy going to the
movies alone. Might I sit with you?”

“That depends,” she said. “I have some questions.”

“OK,” he replied. “Ask away.”

“Where will your cellphone be during the movie?”

“Inside my pocket, completely turned off.”

“Are you in the habit of leaving and returning during the movie?”

“No.”

“Do you ever hum or singalong with songs or music in the movie?”

“No.”

“If you figure out whodunnit before it is revealed, do you say out loud who the culprit is
or that you know who it is?”

“No.”

“Do you eat your companion’s snacks when they haven’t offered to share?”

“No.”

“When the movie ends, do you stay to watch all the credits?”

“Always.”

“Has the staff at any theatre ever asked you to leave for any reason?”

“No.” The man nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wondering where
this interrogation was headed.

“Have you ever engaged in inappropriate sexual behavior at the movies?”

“I don’t think so.”

“How many times have you taken out a gun and shot other moviegoers?”

“I’ll find a seat elsewhere in the theatre,” the man said testily before turning around and
walking away.

The woman smiled. This was not the first undesired companion who had tried to sit with
her. She found the rude questionnaire much more fun than simply saying she’d rather
sit alone. It always worked.