Because I Do What I’m Told

Long story short:  Cloverfield is pretty incredible.  For the long story, read on.

My roommates and I decided to venture to Redwood city to see said film today–the theater there’s the easiest one to get to without a car (it’s like a fifteen-minute Caltrain ride and a one block walk).  Except for the fact that Michael G. Howard can’t read time schedules (or at least I’ll blame it on him, instead of another, and actually real, person).  So the bus that was supposed to take us to the train… well, it didn’t exist.  And we walked the good mile or so to the train station, which wouldn’t have been bad at all EXCEPT for the fact that we were still pretty far away by like two minutes before the train was supposed to get there.  So we sprint to the train station, buy our tickets, and wait.  And wait.  Turns out the train we thought we were going to take didn’t exist either.  Twenty minutes later, a real train comes.

So that was getting there.  But once in Redwood city, we walked off the train and literally onto the street the theater’s on.  Except for the fact that it does this weird parabola-thing where it meets the train station and goes the same direction in two different ways.  Needless to say, we took the wrong way, wandered around near the San Mateo county jail before realizing we probably missed the movie theater, cut through a parking lot/arboretum kinda thing, and retraced our steps.

Then we saw Cloverfield.  Which was total sensory overload in the best way possible.  As Ben said, thank God that hand held camera recorded in surround sound.

When that was over though, we missed the train back by about thirty seconds because SOMEONE had to go to the bathroom (let’s just inculpate Michael again, shall we?) and ended up wandering around a Redwood shopping center for forty five minutes or so, where the people seem to alternate between really awesome and incredibly douche-nozzle-y.  Needless to say, it’s a good place to go.

Then we got on the train back, then Ben said I should blog about it, and about the people — like the guy on his Bluetooth headset who actually acknowledged our attempts to try to answer the question that obviously wasn’t directed at us, or the Long’s cashier who insisted that she knew Ben’s (the other Ben) needs better than him, or the guy who seemed to be miming urination on the back wall of the Long’s — and now here I am, writing it.



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