Entertainment Weekly gave me a chance to win two tickets to opening night of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2, and I took it, and I won. Anita (rowanceleste) snagged the other ticket before Jessica and Heidi even had a chance, but they bought their own tickets so they could join me too.
Jessica and Heidi cleverly took seats behind the reserved section. Anita and I cleverly chose to eat dinner at P.F. Chang's, which was super busy on Friday night. By the time we made it to the theater, only one of the two seats in front of them was free. The closest pair of seats was on the other side of the theater. Our plan had failed.
The only way to free up the other seat would be for everyone in the row to move down a seat, but I didn't want to ask that. The woman on our end, however, would be happy to, as long as the others did. In fact, she took it upon herself to ask the rest of the row if they'd mind moving down a seat. Everyone seemed to assent.
Except the woman at the other end. Who pointed out that there were many seats available on her side of the theater. I explained that I wanted to sit with my friends.
She shook her head. SHE REFUSED.
"Well, at least we'll be in the same theater," said Heidi.
But then both the dude in the seat I needed and the considerate woman offered to move all the way to the other side; the latter won. THANK YOU, CONSIDERATE WOMAN, FOR REMINDING ME THAT ALL PEOPLE ARE NOT ASSHOLES.
So we all got to sit together and listen to each other sniffle.
(For one stretch of the movie, I was on the verge of tears. But half the audience was sniffling at that point, and one girl in the back was sobbing. But no one was laughing at her because we were all feeling the same way. I think it was the first time I'd experienced collective sadness in a theater rather than collective laughter.)
After the movie—which was great—I really had to pee. I motioned to the restroom and remarked, "I'm going to Expelliarmus."
A couple laughed, and I believe they hung around until I came out specifically so the man could retort, "If that's what casting Expelliarmus is, I don't want to know what the wand is made of."