Hmmm… apparently, Fathom and Quentin Tarantino are releasing Pulp Fiction for one night only in December.
Pulp Fiction is actually the first movie that made it to the list of Movies Alaina’s Never Seen. Oh, this is actually a funny story —
My former coworker Brian had sent this email to our boss, and the Boss sent it back to the rest of us in the department, saying “Great idea, Brain!” Now, obviously, that was a typo — similar to that time that my sister accidentally misquoted Homer Simpson: “Quiet, Brian, or I’ll stab you with a Q-Tip!” But I, being always on the lookout for a funny joke or a way to get a new nickname, immediately wrote back to Brian, “I am TOTALLY calling you ‘Brain’ from now on. But only if you call me Pinky.”
And it was on. It was on like Donkey Kong.
Me, being the incorrigible gossip I am, ran down to tell Brad my new nickname.
Me: So Brian’s calling me Pinky now.
Brad: … Why?
Me: Because Eric mistyped his name as ‘Brain,’ and I said I’d call him ‘Brain’ if he called me Pinky. After Pinky and the Brain.
Brad: [gives a blank stare]
Me: Pinky and the Brain. You don’t know Pinky and the Brain?
Brad: Alaina, what are you talking about?
Me: Oh my GOD, you’re so old!
That was the first time I ever called Brad ‘old.’ Luckily, he bounced right back.
Brad: Well, you know what I think of when I hear ‘brain.’
Me: No. No, I don’t. And I’m not sure I want to know.
Brad: “Check out the big brain on Brad.”
Me: [gives a blank stare]
Brad: “Check out the big brain on Brad.” From Pulp Fiction.
Me: [shakes head]
Brad: Pulp Fiction.
Me: … i’veneverseenPulpFiction.
Brad: You’ve NEVER seen Pulp Fiction?!
Me: … It’s on my list!
Brad: Don’t talk to me for the rest of the day!
It was all downhill from there. Shawshank Redemption. Big. The Green Mile. Caddyshack. Animal House. Nearly every week, Brad asked me about a movie to see if I had seen it. He brought in articles, spreadsheets, handwritten lists. I couldn’t even turn the tables on him, because the only movie on my top ten list he hadn’t seen was the obscure Audrey Hepburn-Peter O’Toole comedy How to Steal a Million. John somehow got in on the act. Pretty soon, news spread throughout the workplace that, for all my pop culture knowledge, actually seeing movies was something I apparently couldn’t be bothered to do.
And so, this blog was born.
And Pulp Fiction was the first to be put on the list, even when it was a list in my head. That Christmas, Johnny bought me a copy on DVD. I still haven’t watched it. I was planning on getting through the Star Wars sextet first, then figuring out where to go. I was thinking Tommy Boy. But this might be an opportunity I can’t pass up.
So now, I have some decisions to make. Do I go see Pulp Fiction, the stupid little movie that, three years ago, in some stupid little way started this stupid little blog, on the big screen, knowing that I can’t bring my laptop and the projectionist won’t pause the movie so I can gather my thoughts? Do I go see it anyway and then try and write up my notes afterwards, a la my Oscar!Watch? If I go through it that way, do I then rewatch it when I get home and let my jokes (or commentary) enter the world in that way?
Do I tell Brad? (Yeah, I’ll most likely do that. It’s like me and Raiders of the Lost Ark last month – give me a chance to see it on the big screen and I am fucking there.) Do I offer to have him go with me if I choose to do this? Uh, no — awkward. He’s never seen a movie with me. Even the training videos we used to watch, I’d talk at the screen. He’d haaaaate me after that. (My sister has only recently begun to tolerate my snarky comments. Although, to her credit, she allows them when we go see the stupid Twilight movies. SHE ALLOWS ME TO DRINK AT THEM.)
Okay, so maybe not as many decisions as I thought. Although I have to admit, playing a round of Horrify Brad would have hilarious results. It’s been a while since I’ve made anyone’s … well …