Funny story time (I mean I did name this blog smile, right?) Last month, a Michael Bublé Instagram post catches my eye mentioning something about a one-time-only, yet nationwide-in-select-theaters movie. About his tour. And his face. And voice. And a total of $15 per ticket at a nearby theater. And then somehow ten minutes later I have a new flagged email in my inbox with two purchased tickets for my sister and me.
The countdown ends last Tuesday evening. It’s 6:45pm and the two of us pull in the parking lot ready for some Bublé, and we notice this long line outside the theater.
“What? Wait is this movie that big of a deal?”
“I didn’t think so! Are they all Michael Bublé fans?” (paraphrased remarks)
In our confused state, we get in line. We get in line behind four women probably in their 50’s who casually mention Michael in their conversation. We must be in the right place. Three younger men get in line behind us. “They have great taste!” I think. Actually, I think I say that aloud. We take a selfie just to remember our disbelief of the long line (yep, it’s the cover photo of this post). My sister and I are busy catching up, laughing, sharing sarcasm, sharing our excitement for this random film, watching the sunset, laughing some more – when a security woman comes outside to tell us we cannot have our phones in the theater. We must put them in our car.
…Huh? The women in front of us yell “But the tickets are on my phone!!!” Okay one – settle down ma’ams. Two – same here. The security then say we can scan our tickets and then put our phones in the car. We must be in the right place. Finally the line begins to move. The four women in front of us have disappeared. My sister and I think they just bolted off in their angered phone-less haste. Everyone holds out their phones/tickets for scan (no not with a device, just a glance from the employees) and an usher is counting us as we walk by. “Theater to your right, please.”
“Oh my gosh, what if he’s HERE” we say in hopeful sarcasm. I run out to my car to stow away our phones. We must be in the right place. When I return, we go through another line of security to check our purses. Geesh, we took our phones into his actual tour two years ago! We walk into the packed theater. Wedged between a young couple who snuck in their phones and a family of at least four children. We must be in the right place. Wait, why is that Mark Wahlberg poster up on the screen? What is Deepwater Horizon? My sister and I laugh it off, poke fun at the theater, share more stories of our days and lives and boys and – security interrupts with one final message about “premieres” and “safety” and the screen goes dark. And it’s still dark. Where’s the jazz chords? Some whispered dialogue begins that is sentimental, somewhat unnerving, and DEFINITELY not Bublé.
It hits us at once. We are not at all in the right place. We stumble out of the theater, past the family of six, down the stairs, and out to the security team (seriously, how much security is necessary?!)
“Where’s Michael Bublé?”
“We have no idea what you’re talking about.”
We’re in a bit of a daze and trying not to get upset, pacing towards the front desk.
“Where’s Michael Bublé?”
“Uhh…umm…uhh…theater to your left. All the way left. Down the hall.” We’re literally sprinting down the hall now. What time is it? How much have we missed? Michael we’re coming for you!! – now that I definitely say aloud. Too loud for the movie theater hallway probably.
We stumble in, giggling, out of breath, hearts racing, and easily find a seat with only 15 or so taken. Now this makes much more sense. There’s his beautiful face. And voice. Who knows how much we’ve missed, but the last hour is FANTASTIC. And it is extra special because of our adventure leading up to it. Isn’t it so funny how the unplanned moments make for the best memories? That whole wrong place at the right time thing. We’ll be laughing and treasuring this moment for probably years.