Some may argue that “[t]he ‘terrorism bubble’ has burst,” but let me tell you: the fight is still going strong in Sparkle City.

Monday afternoon, as 4:00 approached, I decided to go see Talladega Nights¹. After driving to the closest theater, I bought my ticket (there was a little weirdness at the ticket counter as the semi-comatose teenager kept talking to someone over her shoulder) and walked inside. The manager came up to me immediately and said, “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave your bag² in your car.”

Me: What? Why?
Manager, as if I’m an idiot: Well, for one thing, after 9/11 we can’t be too careful.
Me, reaching to open my bag: Oh, do you want to check inside?
Manager, as if I’m a pervert: Sir, I’m not interested in your personal things.³
Me, thinking but not saying: Either you are or you aren’t. I’m getting mixed messages here.
Me, very calmly: Can I get my money back?
Manager: Yes
Me, getting my money back: Do you tell women with purses the same thing?
Manager, pausing a weirdly long time, like he’s gonna stare me down, Walker, Texas Ranger style: Sometimes.
Me: I find that hard to believe.

Sure enough, as I left, a high school couple purchased some tickets and made their way inside, only to return shortly so the girl could leave her purse in her car.

My solution? I went to another theater and saw the movie (with my bag in tow), no problem. I ask you, dear reader. W. T. F?

I lived in D.C.⁴ before, during, and after 9/11, and I took this bag on the Metro all the time, into movie theaters, into the Library of Congress, into the Folger Shakespeare Library (which is a stone’s throw from the Capitol Building and the Supreme Court), into all of the Smithsonians and art museums, and no one ever told me to leave the bag in my car. I’ve taken this bag into movie theaters, on the subway, into museums and other public buildings in New York⁵ with no hassling from anyone. I’ve taken this bag on the underground, into museums, and other public buildings in London⁶ with no hassling from anyone. I’ve taken this bag all over Manchester⁷, with no hassling from anyone. Hell, I took this bag into the Hanoi Hilton last fall with no hassling.

Reader, when a prisoner of war facility in an oppressive, corrupt, communist regime affords people more freedom than a movie theater in small town America, something has gone horribly, horribly wrong.

The security forces in all of these cities may think they know how to handle and prevent terrorism, but apparently this theater manager in Sparkle City knows something they don’t.

Either that, or he was invoking the horrific deaths of over 2,000 people to ensure that no contraband candy was being snuck into his theater. But that couldn’t have been what was going on, because that would just be fucking disgusting.

1. My review, in a nutshell: Meh.
2. This would be my brown, nylon, L.L. Bean, over-the-shoulder bookbag that I’ve had since the early ’90s. I would call it a messenger bag, but I doubt messengers would be seen with something so ugly. At the time of the above terrorist intervention, said bag contained my cell phone, my pda, my ipod (i.e. about $500 worth of electronic goods), a few magazines, and a plastic bottle with water in it because it’s about a billion degrees here and I try to stay hydrated. There’s no way I’m leaving all those electronic goodies in my car to be either stolen or baked in the heat.
3. WTF? Like I’ve got a big dildo in there or something?
4. You know, where the terrorists have actually attacked. I was watching the news coverage of the WTC attacks when they cut to the Pentagon to report the attack that had just happened about ten miles from my home. It was one of the worst days of my life.
5. You know, where the terrorists have actually attacked.
6. You know, where the terrorists have actually attacked.
7. You know, where the terrorists have actually attacked.