VIP!

I went to see Harry Potter last night. That wasn't even the exciting part. For months, Freya has been hyping the VIP seats she secures at Lowes for functions like HP movies. But I didn't press her for enough information, clearly. Let me paint a picture of the glorious experience of sitting in the VIP seats:

I sink luxuriously into the red leather arm chair and recline to just the right angle. My feet don't quite reach the floor, but that's ok because the chair is wide enough for me to sit cross-legged. In each cup holder, carved into the shiny wood arm rests, I have a pint of Blue Moon with an orange wedge foaming in the bottom. On my lap balances a tray of summer berries soaked in melting sorbet.

Movies, beer, and dessert. I felt like I would die of sloth as I pigged out on the contraband chocolates I sneaked in via my purse. I had enough room in my chair that I could curl up in a ball and unbutton my pants, just like at home!

Have you ever enjoyed a movie like that? In a theater? I strongly feel that I can never return to the common section ever again. I was tempted to tip my sorbet platter over the balcony so it would splash all over the heads of the little people down below, just to remind them that they weren't worthy. I am a Very Indulgent Person.

I would have to say that the only negative aspect of the entire experience was the movie-length:amount-of-beer-I-drank ratio. I just had to pee and, in my frenzy to not miss any of the film, ran as fast as I could to and from the bathroom. Unfortunately, on the return trip I wiped out on the stairs up to paradise and banged my knee. Luckily nobody noticed because they were engrossed in the Christmas scene at #12 Grimmauld Place, which I missed rolling around in pain on the sticky theater floor.