I snuck my daughter out of school yesterday to see Life of Pi. Spoiler Alert: the tiger doesn’t eat him. I was very disappointed by that because it is not at all biologically accurate. Bengal tigers are one of two animals on the planet that actually hunt humans (the other one is the polar bear…think of that next time you’re donating money because a polar bear is clinging to a tiny shard of ice in the ocean), meaning they will skip their natural food source and go for the people if they get the chance. They like our chewy centers, apparently.

So even though the National Geographic people protested the lack of zoological accuracy and the tiger didn’t eat him, the movie was really good, despite the fact that my daughter and I can’t agree on the ending. It was very confusing, mostly because we were high on $12 worth of popcorn and root beer. We will skip over the fact that the one bag of popcorn and one soda that we shared cost $2 less than the two tickets to get in. I think it’s how they make their money. They certainly weren’t making money on the attendance because at three o’clock in the afternoon, there were only four of us sitting in the dark cheering for the tiger. I usually don’t like walking into a dark movie theater in the middle of the afternoon with only a couple of people in there, because it usually means I’ve accidentally walked into a porn theater again and chances are good somebody has his hand down his pants, like Pee Wee Herman.

The best part about going to the movies (especially with lots of popcorn and no one else in the theater to have to put up with) is seeing the commercials for all the other movies they can tempt you into watching. They only do that so you’ll come back and buy more popcorn, which would make me mad but I think it’s precisely how advertising is supposed to work. It’s just doing its job.

Now for the worst part about going to the movies: it makes me feel really old. It’s too cold, it’s too loud, it’s too expensive, these lousy kids with their stupid cell phones…blah blah (old coot) blah. I feel like I should be shaking my fist and demanding a refund on the nickel I paid to see the talkies. It doesn’t help at all that nowadays almost all movie theaters are connected to giant shopping malls, so you have to put up with the throngs of people who like to hang out in a mall just to get in the front door, mostly people whose pants are hanging around their knees and their hats are on sideways. And that’s the parents.

It has to be a really good movie to lure me out of the comfort of my compound and force me to interact with society. The next title on my to-see list is the Les Miserables that comes out on Christmas, but I don’t know if I can brave the shopping mall at that time of year just to see Anne Hathaway shave her head. Maybe if she was going to get eaten by a tiger…