2002-10-12 - 4:43 p.m.

It was not so bad during "One Fine Spring Day." The man next to me positively reeked of hot dog water (ha ha except I'm not kidding at all), so I just moved over one seat & soon he stopped smelling like it. The second movie, "Blessing Bell", I loved. However, my viewing cirumstances were among the worst ever. Sydney was on my right. On my left - the devil. A man in a bright orange sweatshirt with some sort of batik-type patterned turquoise jeans. He was white, with a beard. He had a lady with him whose bared thigh & knee he caressed unceasingly throughout the film. They murmured to each other during the movie, he yawned one of those loud yawns that has different strained "ah-ah-ah" noises, like a bunch of different yawns going higher but linked into one massive yawn. Linked like sausage. Worst. Of. All. He took of his shoe & caressed his socked foot through most of the movie. Yes, he was caressing with both hands. It was mostly near me, the foot, but sometimes he sat differently, with his leg slung over onto his lady friend. He was maybe 53? 55? Like that. Such a vile prick he is. Afterwards, I was going to turn to Sydney & say that of course he'd ask a question of the director, Sabu. People who wear pants like that & act like that are not there to remain unnoticed, cannot take having their voices go unheard. I can't remember what he asked. Women actually asked some questions, unlike many Q&As I've been to at the Fest. He made up for this progress on our part by asking two questions. I hope hope hope that someone will read this & know him & let him know how repugnant he is.

I kept picturing anything I said to him, him saying something horrid back & me immediately getting physical. You know, letting him hear my body talk. And them having to stop the film & turn on all the lights & everyone yelling & me realizing I am completely Larry David. Sydney & Andrew can fight over who is Jeff & who is Richard Lewis (Lloyd is Cheryl).

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