To the people who thought it would be a good idea to bring your infant to the 4:30 showing of Atonement at Regal Green Hills on Saturday: fuck you.
I guess you thought the baby would sleep through the movie. Well, guess what: it didn’t. It was fussy and disruptive throughout the entire film, most annoyingly at the very end when Vanessa Redgrave, playing Older Briony, makes the film’s Big Reveal.
So thanks to you and your child, we missed most of the film’s climax. I guess you didn’t want to miss it either, since you let your baby cry in the theater, instead of taking it out of the auditorium until it settled down. Again: fuck you.
How unbelievably, incomprehensibly rude of you.
I guess it never occurred to you that there might be 150 other people trying to watch the film, too. In fact, concern about those other people was the only thing preventing me from yelling “get a baby-sitter!” from my seat 15 rows behind you.
You know, I hate to break it to you, but having a baby means you might have to make sacrifices. It means not going out to see the hot new movie everyone is talking about whenever you want; you just might have to wait for the DVD. This might come as a shock to you but guess what: your world now revolves around your child. That was the choice you made when you decided to have this child. And I don’t appreciate you including me in that choice.
I’ve seen you people in the future. Two couples just like you brought four toddlers to Mafiozas and proceeded to drown out their screams with wine and beer while the rest of us in the restaurant tried to have our dinner. We watched as your children threw their food-filled plates on the floor, while you did absolutely nothing save order another round of drinks. Whoever you are: fuck you, too.
That is all.