Friday the 13th is a scary, scary day indeed. Never have I thought about resembling one with superstitious beliefs until now. I've never quite written something similar to the medium of analysis as I am scouring through right now but the tragic downfall is horrifying. In order to set the scene, a brief synopsis and rundown of my job (and theater) is due. I support creative writing as much as the next lush so my story is simple. It begins with a decrepit six screen theater with Friday the 13th in auditorium 1 and The Pink Panther 2 in auditorium 2. Previously two nights before, Friday the 13th was screened in auditorium 2. This leads to the eventual and eventful conclusion to the tale.
After noticing that no one purchased tickets for the morning show of Pink Panther 2, a co-worker and I began conversing in the empty theater aided only by the incredibly unfunny performance of Steve Martin. His humor sure has fallen to such a slump since The Jerk and Bowfinger. After walking upstairs back into my territory accompanied by my favorite cinematic phylum's, I realized something was out of the ordinary - the lamp in auditorium 2 was off. Running over in a frantic frenzy, I soon realized that no one was in the theater so my stress soon there after evaporated into a colorful mist. It was a good feeling. Then I went to start the second Friday the 13th showing, but that was during the time I began thinking about what I had stupidly said earlier.
Earlier that day, I boasted almost competitively "Haha! It would be funny if Friday the 13th fucked up on Friday the 13th!!". This was the last thing I said before I pushed a loose button into the correct positioning. The light discharged a soft pop and my torso was showered with sparks. I couldn't believe it. A showing with a decent amount of people had just been cursed to be canceled. Or had it? Working with the manager, we decided to switch it to the already faulty theater 2 since the last showing of Pink Panther 2 had been canceled. Rethreading the projector, I had my doubts. Keep in mind, the projector screwed up not too long ago. Starting it in 2 was a death trap but we went ahead anyways.
Number 2 went fine, for 20 minutes that is. While attempting to fix the bulb in projector number 1, I brought up the fact that I screened Friday the 13th in theater 2 previously and that might explain the misfortune. I laughed and sighed, inexplicably, I witnessed the bulb blow in projector 2, I started cursing aloud and looked though the port glass window to see an angry crowd. Number 1 and 2 were both down for the count and we still had a print to motor through. Perplexed at the amount of anti-luck I'd experienced only through half of the day, I was sure I was to go home and drown my black cat of 15 years. As soon as all the refunds were done, wouldn't you know it, number 1 kicked back on. After troubleshooting both projectors, both had little to no errors. Now, I have skipped over many parts of the day but know this - Friday the 13th is now a day I fear. Bubble wrap seems to be a good choice for clothing on this day.
This isn't so much an article displaying literary academia but a confession of someone who focuses on Cryptozoology and has finally been swayed by the effects of superstition and the likes. I realize that every projector that the print of Friday the 13th has touched has become defunct. This isn't some bizarre effect of possession but a true form of "jinxing" something. I refuse to ever work a Friday the 13th ever again and this event has made a scared man of me. It could be mere coincidence but I enjoy harvesting feelings of fear and cowardice. I'd never let something so bold go to waste. Plainly, this movie's fucking evil.
After noticing that no one purchased tickets for the morning show of Pink Panther 2, a co-worker and I began conversing in the empty theater aided only by the incredibly unfunny performance of Steve Martin. His humor sure has fallen to such a slump since The Jerk and Bowfinger. After walking upstairs back into my territory accompanied by my favorite cinematic phylum's, I realized something was out of the ordinary - the lamp in auditorium 2 was off. Running over in a frantic frenzy, I soon realized that no one was in the theater so my stress soon there after evaporated into a colorful mist. It was a good feeling. Then I went to start the second Friday the 13th showing, but that was during the time I began thinking about what I had stupidly said earlier.
Earlier that day, I boasted almost competitively "Haha! It would be funny if Friday the 13th fucked up on Friday the 13th!!". This was the last thing I said before I pushed a loose button into the correct positioning. The light discharged a soft pop and my torso was showered with sparks. I couldn't believe it. A showing with a decent amount of people had just been cursed to be canceled. Or had it? Working with the manager, we decided to switch it to the already faulty theater 2 since the last showing of Pink Panther 2 had been canceled. Rethreading the projector, I had my doubts. Keep in mind, the projector screwed up not too long ago. Starting it in 2 was a death trap but we went ahead anyways.
Number 2 went fine, for 20 minutes that is. While attempting to fix the bulb in projector number 1, I brought up the fact that I screened Friday the 13th in theater 2 previously and that might explain the misfortune. I laughed and sighed, inexplicably, I witnessed the bulb blow in projector 2, I started cursing aloud and looked though the port glass window to see an angry crowd. Number 1 and 2 were both down for the count and we still had a print to motor through. Perplexed at the amount of anti-luck I'd experienced only through half of the day, I was sure I was to go home and drown my black cat of 15 years. As soon as all the refunds were done, wouldn't you know it, number 1 kicked back on. After troubleshooting both projectors, both had little to no errors. Now, I have skipped over many parts of the day but know this - Friday the 13th is now a day I fear. Bubble wrap seems to be a good choice for clothing on this day.
This isn't so much an article displaying literary academia but a confession of someone who focuses on Cryptozoology and has finally been swayed by the effects of superstition and the likes. I realize that every projector that the print of Friday the 13th has touched has become defunct. This isn't some bizarre effect of possession but a true form of "jinxing" something. I refuse to ever work a Friday the 13th ever again and this event has made a scared man of me. It could be mere coincidence but I enjoy harvesting feelings of fear and cowardice. I'd never let something so bold go to waste. Plainly, this movie's fucking evil.
-mAQ
Hello Soiled Sinema!
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A hug ang Greetings