I Can't Stop Watching You

I am watching Justice League: New Frontier for, approximately, the three hundredth time. This is not an exaggeration. At the end of January, we got a preview screener of the movie, and watched it three or four times a day until the DVD came out. Since the release of the DVD it's been on pretty much non-stop in every store. I should really hate this stupid movie, but I. can't. stop. watching. it.

It has one of my favorite comic book (and now animated movie lines) of all time, when Batman, having just met Martian Manhunter says: "My instincts tell me you're to be trusted, but make no mistake--- It took a seventy-thousand dollar sliver of meteor to stop the one in Metropolis. With you, all I need is a penny for a book of matches."

There are currently seventeen customers semi-circled around the TV watching this movie. They have been oohing, ahhing, cheering, and owing. It would be almost cute IF I HAVEN'T HAD TO GO THE BATHROOM FOR THIRTY MINUTES. I am staying calm, though.

I appear to be excelling at calm this week. This morning, I got to work a bit early, so I headed down the street to get some breakfast. I was standing in line behind a typical Brookline sneery woman. She ordered an egg and something sandwich, sounded like she said cheeze. I only noticed because she sounded so phony with the way she said cheeeeeeeeeeeeeezuh to the Mexican woman behind the counter. Typical rich, well-to-do- "open minded" person explaining something to a "stupid foreigner".

I ordered my bagel while she and her haggard, preppy looking boyfriend sat down and argued. Well, argument is an overstatement. She berated him for the condition of his jacket, while he nodded and mumbled apologies.

She let out an enormous sigh when her number was announced, and trudged over to the counter. "What's this?" She asked.

"It is an egg and cheese sandwich." The Mexican woman behind the counter said, without a stereotypical accent, or any offensive tone.

"Egg and cheese? No. I said egg and CREAM cheese. This is ridiculous. Where's the manager?"

"Sure." The employee said.

I swear I herd the boyfriend say "Jesus Christ, not again." But I can't be sure. But even if I just imagined it, it was enough to get me giggling.

Of course, the woman turned on me. "What's so funny?"

"You. Why talk to the manager. Clearly, they misunderstood your order. It took two minutes to make, at most. They could probably make you a new one in the time it takes to get the manager out here."

"Well, I'm not paying for..." I stopped listening. Wasn't my argument, and I wasn't finding it funny any more, just annoying and sad. I grabbed my bagel and headed over to the comic book store.

I had just unbagged my bagel, when someone started pounding on the door. Cream Cheese Queen. She'd followed me.

"We open in forty-five minutes." I said through the door.

"I want to talk to you now."

"Sorry. You can come back in forty-five minutes when we open."

She pounded the door one more time, and walked away. I've spent the rest of the day dreading her return. So far, nothing.

But I have had other typical Brookline people. The mid-fortyish father with no control over his son. Not a particularly bratty son. He wasn't loud or obnoxious, but he started watching New Frontier, and after a few minutes, the Dad was ready to go. "Liam, it's time to go."

The kid made a meep-meep noise and shook his head.

"Ok, another minute, and then we have to go."

"Nuh-uh."

This repeated for over a half an hour. The dad would spend a minute or two looking at the kids' comics and then sternly tell his son it was time to go. His son would refuse, and he would go back to looking at other comics.

Eventually, the dad turned to me and said, "Hey could you turn off the TV for me?"

And I wanted to say "Could you learn how to be a parent, you gigantic pussy of douche?" but I didn't, I paused the DVD, and the kid shook his head, and very politely asked me to turn it back on.

I was getting ready to say "I have to turn it off now so that you can leave." When the dad said "I guess we'll just have to stay to the end, then, eh tiger?"

Tiger? Really? Why not just buy him something to reward his not listening to you. "I'm going to get you this nice Bone comic, too, okay."

Without looking away form the TV (which I still had not unpaused), he said "I want two Bone books."

"Ok."

And I unpaused the DVD, because this kid was clearly Damien or something much more powerful.

There is clearly something wrong with this part of Boston. Zuzu has a prospective tenant to her apartment who has been living in Brookline for the last twenty years. She calls herself Penny Wisdom Snidely. None of those are her actual names, it's just what she likes to call herself. She must have been so jealous to find out that Jethro Q. Bonwackit Bozitstabon Boot Walrus Titty had already been taken.

Penny-Wisdom is a self-called Spiritualist Writer For Children (I've googled her, didn't find any of her work anywhere). In a conversation with Zuzu, she informed Zuzu that the Jews (the religion she embraced a couple of months ago) were called The Chosen People, not because God chose them to be in a covenant with Him, but because someone has to take on all the world's suffering, and they're so good at it. I don't see her being very popular with other Jews, other spiritualists, children, writers, or really anyone, except possibly people with silly names. What do you think, Morris Stegosaurus? She probably has a large group of friends here in Brookline, though.

I'm too congested to ponder this any further. Luckily, one of the nice Brookline people that I've been kvetching about heard me cough, and gave me a couple of Airborne placebo pills to help me feel better.