One of my biggest pet peeves in life is people who talk in movie theaters. It infuriates me and I never let it go unchallenged. Two of my co-workers who will no longer go to movies with me once witnessed me 1) yelling back over my shoulder at a guy in the back row who was talking on his cell phone to shut up, 2) then throw Goobers at the same guy while yelling at him to shut up, 3) get up and go back to his row to tell him to shut up, and then 4) walk down his row to stand right in front of him and tell him to “hang the fuck up.” They were convinced a brawl was going to break out. One didn’t: the asshole hung up. So you can see I don’t put up with a whole lot of noise in my movies.

Well, I had another incident today. I went to see The Rundown this afternoon (I give it an enthusiastic two thumbs up), and Billy Joe Jim Bob decided to bring his 4-month old infant in a child carrier with him. As soon as he sat down four seats down from me I knew there was going to be trouble, and sure enough the kid started squalling within minutes.

Look, I understand that babies cry, I had one that did it myself. But you know what? Babies cry, so you’re an asshole if you take them to the movies. You may be able to tune it out, but the rest of the theater shouldn’t have to. Just stay home, have some consideration for the people around you. That’s what Beth and I did when Zoe was little.

So Billy Joe’s spawn is yowling. I gave him about 30 seconds to cork the kid, then leaned over and said, “Hey, this ain’t gonna work. Move or get out.” He huffed and puffed and I interrupted to repeat “move or get out” and gave him the added option of paying for my ticket since he was ruining my movie.

“Don’t you go gittin’ smart with me!” he drawled at me, so I stood up and leaned over him and told him I wasn’t getting smart, I was getting “fucking brilliant,” and that he should find another seat or get the fuck out. From all around us I felt a general sense of drawing-back as the people around us thought fists were about to fly.

But then the guy’s wife (or sister, or mother, or maybe all three) showed up and broke the tension. She took the baby and he complained to her that “this guy’s gittin’ smart with me!” and I sat back down and she and the baby went away (I have no idea where she came from or went to) and peace and quiet was restored. For the rest of the movie Billy Joe glared at me from time to time and I readied myself for the inevitable showdown in the lobby, but he was out of his seat like a jackrabbit when the credits rolled and was nowhere to be seen when I followed him out a minute later.

So to my fellow audience members of Fort Smith, AR’s Carmike 14 theater’s 4:40 pm showing of The Rundown: you’re welcome. And to everyone reading this who will ever be in the same theater with me: please, oh please, be quiet. I will make a scene.