Transplanted Life
Friday, August 22, 2003
 
Movie (and Shoe) Night: The Secret Lives Of Dentists
A pretty good movie. If my life ever becomes more nuts, to the point where I'm hallucinating a manifestation of my id that says the rude, politically incorrect things that I can't really say, like the lead in this movie, I too would like him to be played by Denis Leary. Although maybe a few years younger - the cigarettes and beer have really done a number on him. He is dangerously close to turning from a sneering-but-insightful wiseass to an obnoxious, bitter old man. I give him five years, tops, until that happens.

(And I would have picked up on that if I was in my own body. It's not an attractiveness thing, like going on about Campbell Scott's goofy mustache would be. It's a "dude, you're not looking well" thing)

I liked it, though. About the only strike the movie really had against it was that it was playing at Copley Place. Loews Copley Place is, for anyone reading not familiar with Boston's movie theaters, quite possibly the worst place to see a movie in the greater Boston area. The prices stink, the screens are small, with the seats in front actually higher than those in the back, in some cases, the lobby can get very crowded. The second-run theaters in Arlington and Somerville offer better movie-going experiences. It mostly plays boutique films now, but that this was, for a while, where popular mainstream films played really goes to show how much seeing movies in Boston could outright suck up until a couple years ago.

But, last night, for me, the worst part was the location. In the middle of a trendy shopping center, absolutely surrounded by expensive shops. And Kate wanted to buy shoes.

We all know the jokes and stereotypes about women buying shoes. Myself, I've seldom spent more than fifteen minutes doing it, since buying shoes has always been a simple process: Walk into shoe store, find shelf where Men's Size 10½ Wide are stocked, find pair that looks like old pair, try them on to make sure they fit, pay.

But, then again, nobody ever had a reason to look at my big, hairy feet. Nowadays, though, when I'm riding the T, I'll notice the guy in the seat across from me following the line of Michelle's leg down there. As absolutely silly as it seems, part of the use of clothes is to make a first impression, and the foot is where someone's eyes can linger, especially if you're wearing something that ends in the general knee area.

Or at least, that's my best guess. I chose not to come right out and ask Kate and Jen something like "hey, why do you think us girls like shoes so much?"

Anyway, I don't think I was much help. I could have sworn two pairs were identical until Kate pointed out that the heel was a quarter inch wider on the first. I did vote against anything with little flower shapes, just on principle.

In the last store, though, Jen came up with a pair of boots and told me to try them on. Suckers went all the way up to Michelle's knee, and must have had four or five inches of pencil-thin heel. I could feel Michelles butt and breasts going opposite ways as I tried to walk in them. I thought I was going to fall over, and Kate was saying she wished she had the body to pull that off. Then Jen giggled something about how much she bets Kurt would like it.

Well, that led to more girl talk than I've ever wanted to hear. To a certain extent, it was tricky to just answer questions based on only what he's told "Michelle" - that is, saying that he's a technical writer at some place in Cambridge rather than giving his resumé. Answering "how did you meet?" was especially weird, since I'd been there, and almost told the story from my real perspective.

It was also an up-close education on how, well, frank women can be about matters sexual. As in "does he expect you to give him head? He looks like the kind of guy who expects you to not only give him head, but swallow it." I think I just sat speechless for a few minutes. And I really didn't need to know what Jen's boyfriend has to do for her before she rewards him that way.

Anyway, Kate got her shoes, the movie was good, and we only talked about the movie itself afterward.

-Martin
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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at JaySeaver@comcast.net