With great regret, I must forewarn you all that today’s blog will be all about hate. It is unfortunate considering this is the last Theater Hopper strip of 2002, but best to vent now before midnight tomorrow and all that “fresh start” and “new cheer” crap gets underway.

First, let me say that I absolutely HATE my local Fox affiliate. I cursed their name quite loudly when they pre-empted The Simpsons for a basketball game between Iowa State and UNI. This is the second time this year they’ve done this. Normally I would be on board to support the Panthers, but may the Lord help anyone who stands between me and the best damn show in television history. The bastards.

Second, about today’s strip.

Anyone who knows me knows my hatred for my local multiplex – The Wynnsong 16 – burns white hot and rages without boundaries. They also know, like a chump, I keep going back there because it is one of the only theaters boasting both stadium seating and THX sound. You can see my dilemma.

However, as good as the physical theaters are, they barely compensate for the crew of nearly retarded helper monkeys they have manning the ticket booths, concessions and projection booths. Today’s strip is but one of the many TRUE STORIES I’ve collected in my experience with Wynnsong.

The above tale took place less than a week ago when I went to see Star Trek: Nemesis. I went to the matinee. I asked for two tickets and was charged $15.00. I had a twenty in my hand and gave it to the drooling goon with the mop-top haircut. But once I had my tickets, I slowly realized that matinee prices should be… y’know, cheaper.

Immediately stepping back up to the booth, I went back to the same dude who sold me tickets. I explained calmly “I just bought tickets for the 1:30 matinee, but you charged me full price.”

A blank stare greeted me from behind the glass.

“So that means you charged me five dollars more than you should have,” I continued to explain. I waited for him to leap into action.

Still a blank stare.

Then the employees flanking him started walking him through the procedure to return to me my five dollars. They were pointing at buttons on the cash register he should press and did everything but grab his hand to pluck my refund out of the drawer for him.

The whole process took about four minutes longer than it should have.

With my cash firmly in my grasp, I waited for some kind of apology or a humble “Oops. My mistake!” but got nothing. This cretin didn’t say a word to me about it. Not even a half-hearted “Enjoy your show!”

I walked into the theater wondering how people such as he could even conjure the will to bathe themselves in the morning.

This is but one of the many reasons why I hate the Wynnsong 16.