For some, it’s a distinct Chardonnay. Others, erotic asphyxiation. For me, bliss is a good movie in a great theater on the best night of the week: Friday night.We made our way to our seats just as the previews were about to roll, and I sat down next to a much older gent and his wife. Seemed like a nice enough couple, so I didn’t mind the husband occasionally asking his wife to repeat back a low-volume line he couldn’t catch from the movie. What I did mind however, occurred halfway through the film, when I felt his hand on my thigh, then the squeezing of my thigh.
Not familiar with the protocol of this type of situation, I chose to move his hand off my leg, and the cat snapped out of his nap and apologized for dozing off and thinking I was his wife.
While I’m forever determined to convince non-Angelenos that the people of this city truly are friendlier than the myth portrays, I draw the line at being molested by its senior citizens. So keep your hands to yourself, Matlock.
