Tuesday, May 24, 2011

I will not be schwinging along.

I went to see a 'Schwing-Along' ctually that was very traumatic. I mean, I'm not sure what I was expecting of interactive cinema, but it was considerably more so than I well, was. Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed the film and it was great to see my friend (whose idea this was, I had words), oh, and there was popcorn.

But a room that densely populated with hipsters in previously ironic Wayne's World hats, ridiculous wigs and ripped jeans proved too much for me. I managed to stay in my seat though, albeit rolling my eyes passive-aggressively and sinking into my seat so I couldn't be cajoled into quoting along (every SINGLE word, really?!)

You may be thinking, 'what a miserable twat'. Well, maybe I am. Or perhaps a tad socially awkward in this panto-type (but worse) situation. I do appreciate this sense of unity and fun, but forgive me for cringing a little at the headbanging competition (they looked like they had a lot of fun, though, and some people really made a brilliant effort at fancy dress).

All-round, I did have fun (believe it or not - well, you cannot fail to at laugh a lot at that film, or at least smile) and my friend was in her element, singing along, looking at me encouragingly whilst singing (it didn't work). It was a very well organised event (with some enthusiastic and entertaining hosts), if you like that sort of thing, but apparently, it's not my cup of tea.

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