remote cards

The three of them sit at the opposite end of the row. Two girls and a guy. The girl with the punky Mohawk-mullet thing sits in the aisle street. Something like cm gauge tunnels in her ears and wearing heavy framed glasses. She wears a white, long sleeved shirt, with an occasional blue stripe through it. The next girl is wearing a blue boob-tube, which are boobs are straining against, a star tattooed at the centre point, swirls and banners on either side. She wears a thick belt round her waist, silhouettes of witches on broomsticks repeating round its length. She wears short, short denim shorts, with black tights. He is skinny, wears a white t-shirt, one of those kind polo shirt things, with blue jeans. They plop three empty cardboard Coke cups into the cup holders of the cinema seats, before producing a 2 litre bottle of what appears to be diet coke. Though, as the evening goes on, and their behaviour changes, one has ones suspicions that there is a certain amount of vodka included in that mix. The girl in glasses is the quietest of the three, the couple getting quite loud as things progress. A few times people turn round and tell her in particular to shut the hell up! It’s a horror film, a remake of Korean horror, the girl is arguing with her dad’s new girlfriend, who is about to become her step-mother. The girl is shouting, slurring a little, slap her, slap ra bitch! At the end of the film she is crawling around the floor, trying to find her shoes, then trying to find who knows what. He stands up, and in doing so pulls up his trousers, which seemed to have gone remarkably far south during the film, the entirety of his white boxer shorts visible. As people shuffle by, trying to get out of the cinema, the girl in the white top stands there and apologises wearily.

Labels: cinema, drunk, glasgow