Breaking Yawn Part 2

I may not be the epitome of the alpha male, but I can safely say watching Breaking Dawn was one of the most painful experiences of my life. Perhaps even more painful than the time I dislocated my thumb playing table tennis.

Sunday afternoon, spent in the cinema, watching the gayest film ever with the knowledge that all my friends would be sat on their computer chairs, beds or sofas playing Call of Duty: Black Ops II; at least those whose mothers consented to go out and buy it for them. I say this – I actually have little interest in console games, which is lucky, because if I did…

Mum will you buy an Xbox game for me?’
‘What? You don’t have an Xbox. Have you bought an Xbox Alex? I told you not to spend your money on frivolous..’
‘NO! For God’s sake.’
‘Alex! Blasphemy!’
‘I can play it at Damien’s house. It’s called COD, Black Ops 2, it’s an 18 will you get it for me?’
‘An 18?? Cod? Certainly not. I will do no such thing and I don’t think you’ll find Damien’s mother wanting you to play it there either.’
‘I think you’ll find she doesn’t care.’
‘Er, well I care. And what makes you think that anyway?’
‘Because Damien already has it, his mum bought it for him.’
‘Well that’s her decis… Alex why do you want me to buy you this game if you don’t have an Xbox and Damien already has it?’
‘To see if you’d buy it for me. And you wouldn’t, so thanks for nothing.’
‘I can’t believe you wouldn’t buy it for me, Damien is 3 months younger than me.’
‘Why does it matter if you don’t want it?’
‘Becaaause, it’s the principal? I’m assessing how fair my life is and so far, this family operates within a household that has the kind of levels of injustice Leveson would make inquiries into.’

My mother decided we should all go to see the new Twi-crap film for my sister’s birthday. This initial announcement produced colossal protestations and yet somehow, we ended up there, the four of us. Mum pressured (more like blackmailed) us into it because she said we never do anything together as a family; so she thought the perfect opportunity to indulge in some family bonding time would be to go to the cinema… something which involves no communication or interaction. I was about to point this out to her until the words ‘no communication’ and ‘interaction’ dawned on me. She threatened to take away our internet connection for a week and although I know she would have mourned its loss too, the damage it would have done to the sanity of me and my siblings, children of the 21st century, would have been far more severe. My sister Katy actually screamed.

In retrospect of the night’s events, I ask myself how much I would have missed it though. I’d like to say that the plot, cast and acting were the only unbearable factors of going to the cinema that night; however my family’s antics eclipsed even the horrors of watching Twi-shite.

Family Failure No. 1

Dad fell asleep, which would have been fine – who could blame him – except he has a serious snoring problem. Perhaps in a different situation, it would have been funny, except five of the bitchiest girls from school were sat in the row in front and kept turning around and staring at me, which I found unbelievably frustrating. They’re the kind of girls that stare at everyone, for unnecessary lengths of time, sometimes for no apparent reason. But whatever the instigator, their look is nearly always one of disgust. I never even noticed before (why would I?) until my friend Lil pointed it out.

‘They’re staring at me again, why do they have to stare all the friggin’ time? I want to slap them!’
‘Who’s staring?’
Barbie, Cindy and Ken.’
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
‘The three dickheads over there.’
‘What? Bimbo, wannabe bimbo and square-jaw?’
*laughs* ‘Yeah.’

‘That’s odd, they are staring at you.’
‘…. wait-to-go Einstein.’
‘Why do they do that?’
‘To see how much they can make you quake in your Shoezone boots? Because you’re wearing Shoezone boots?! I don’t know! It’s one of life’s great mysteries. Why don’t you go and ask them?’
‘Har har’
‘No seriously, go on. You’re a guy you won’t die from being eviled to death.’
‘Na you’re all right’
‘No seriously..’
‘No, seriously. Seriously; no.’
‘Why not?’
‘I dunno, because they’re weird?’
‘Do they make you uneasy?’
‘Go over there then.’

‘They’re staring at me now…’
‘*sigh* and so the ignorant male caterpillar turns into a better informed and more observant, yet sorry excuse for a butterfly.’

Initially they looked disapprovingly at my dad but the second they spotted me; it was like they hadn’t come to see the film at all. It was like I’d become the entertainment. I spent the majority of the last hour pretending I couldn’t see their owl-like heads turned 360˚ towards me.


 My self-centered, egotistical, boy-obsessed sister happened to spot the guy she was meant to be going out with smooching another girl in the cinema. I suppose for Katy it was a fairly tame reaction; she dumped our jumbo Pepsi and tub of popcorn over their heads – bit selfish if you ask me, I hadn’t had any yet – called them f!*cking tw*ts and stormed out.  It happened before the film started i.e. before they dim the lights, which meant everyone stared in our general direction and whispered excitedly for ten minutes afterwards. The new release advertisements went unnoticed. After all mum’s fuss about doing something together as a family she had to leave to take my sister home and stayed behind to ‘console’, meaning control her. With mum gone, Dad asleep and 4-year-old Charlie being looked after by our neighbours, it was just me and Molly; no popcorn to chew on, defenceless against the stares of the Barbie tribe.



After a painful couple of hours, I felt a small amount of consolation in the fact I’d at least contributed towards the celebration of my sister’s birthday. She wanted to watch Twi-iwanttoshootmyselfintheface- light and she did. Albeit without the snacks (the snacks are a very important component). I asked whether she enjoyed it on our way out and, being a lady of few words, she didn’t disappoint: ‘bit shit… think those girls in front fancied you though.’

An evening worthwhile then…