"WANTED: Someone to go back in time with me. This is not a joke. You'll get paid after we get back. Must bring your own weapons. I have only done this once before. SAFETY NOT GUARANTEED."
As part of my Sunday-off from selling Sacramento real estate activities, my husband and I went to a movie at the Crest Theatre downtown Sacramento. We saw Safety Not Guaranteed. It's an indie movie that stars a bunch of people you've seen in a bunch of other things on TV. That guy who plays one of the roommates on New Girl. Chloe from 24. And Mark Duplass who was in Jeff Who Lives at Home and Aubrey Plaza, a deadpan actress from Parks and Recreation.
The movie is about a reporter from a Seattle magazine and 2 interns who chase an odd story. They're tracking down this guy who put an ad in a newspaper looking for somebody to time travel with him. Normal enough, no? It develops into a story you don't really expect. It's tender and touching but it's also laugh-out-loud funny. The dialogue delivers. It's got punch. Even the ending was unexpected. I can't tell you much more without ruining the movie for you, but I give it 2 thumbs and 2 big toes up.
Then, a funny incident happened as we were leaving the movie theatre. It was French Film Weekend so we had to enter by the side door. I figured it was all right to wear my new t-shirt that my sister sent to me for an early birthday present. OK, it wasn't really an early birthday present. She sent me a text message that I was supposed to open the box on my birthday, which isn't until Thursday. I don't know why she mailed it so early to me. She used to work at the post office so she knows how long it takes priority mail to be delivered. That box sat on my coffee table in the living room for 3 whole days before I ripped it open.
The t-shirt is gray with letters. The letters spell: SO FUC with an image of the outline of the state of Minnesota and ING COLD. Is it considered obscene? Not in my book. Because you know what? It's really really cold in Minnesota. It's why I don't live in Minnesota. I love Minneapolis and it's culture and music but I don't love it in winter when it's 50 below, which is about half of the year. It's one of the reasons I live in Sacramento. Of course, here I deal with the other extreme. Heat.
As we came up the stairs to get our parking validated, the ticket guy looked in my direction and said he admired my shirt. Said he didn't notice it when we came in. I thanked him and added I didn't know where my sister bought it but she sent it to me from Minnesota. My husband elbowed me: "He wasn't talking to you." Apparently, ticket guy was talking to the dude in front of us whose t-shirt I didn't see. Whose t-shirt had a picture of Jack Nicholson and REDRUM. I had been outdone in the t-shirt department. I hung my head in shame.