Oh No!

From time to time I make poor decisions a much smarter man would avoid, decisions that almost always lead me to end up on the receiving end of my girlfriend's frustration.

Not long ago my girlfriend Amanda and I were at the movie theater. Now before I go on I am not sure if you know this about me but I'm a sucker for the up sale at the movie theater. You might be asking yourself, why would I know this about you? Well I don't know really, it just seems like every time I walk into a theater every teenage popcorn merchant can sense it.

So I start off saying the word "Medium", medium popcorn, medium drink. Then out of nowhere, the hook comes.

"For just a dollar extra you can get the large?"

Sold.

I arrived wanting a small thirst quencher, I leave with enough sugary liquid to satisfy the thirst of a small African country... and bring about a diabetes epidemic among the locals.

This night was no different, I settled in with my girlfriend, a mountain of popcorn, and a cup that holds ten times more liquid then your bladder. We sat there and watched the commercials. And by commercials I don't mean product placement within the movie, or the trailers for the upcoming movie, or the commercials for products they show before the trailers. I'm talking about the pre-commercial commercials they show you while you wait for all of the other ads to start.

So we're sitting there and it's about five minutes to showtime (showtime: the time the first batch of commercials end and the lights dim for the official commercials) and my girlfriend goes to grab the drink.

Now what happened next was not my fault in any way and even if the video surfaces from the kid in the back row who was playing with his camera phone, even if it comes to light like a grainy Zapruder Film of the incident... there would be no proof to implement me.

Amanda reached for the cup. The condensation causing her grip to slip slightly as she lifted it from the cup holder, sliding straight into the lid. As her hand went up the lid decided it didn't want to carry on this journey. It slid off, her hand lost its grip.... the entire drink, bright red Kool-Aid went splashing down upon her lap, ice cubes clinking to the ground around her feet.

Amanda's face looked like she had just been dealt a Tropical Punch from the Kool-Aid Man himself. The flavour had been Cherry, but my guess from the look of it all over her brand new white shirt, that it wasn't Kool-Aid's 'Invisible Cherry' flavour. I'm sure to Amanda it was their 'Changin' Cherry', though I'd like to think of it as 'Rock-a-dile Red'. Yes, there's no pun to Rock-a-dile Red, but when else will I ever get to say it? Try it, right now, we'll wait to continue the story. Come on, I'm giving you the one opportunity in your life to say Rock-a-dile Red.

Done? Okay, so my girlfriend was soaked, sticky, and stained red from shirt to skin with the stuff. But as you recall it wasn't my fault. So how did I end up in trouble?

The laughing probably didn't help, the "Oh Yeah!" Kool-Aid impressions may not have aided my cause, but it was the next words out of my mouth that probably did me in...

"We've got like two minutes before the movie starts. We'll move down like a seat, you run to the washroom, dry yourself off a bit. I'll go, get us a refill of Kool-Aid."

"A refill?" she asks.

"Yeah, I mean, with popcorn we're going to need a drink."

"Derek, you expect me to stay here? After this?"

I did. Apparently we didn't see eye to eye.

It was a quiet drive home, and not a "Oh yeah!" was heard that night.

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