Dear LOOK Cinemas,
Is your theatre run by a pack of wild dogs? By palsy-riddled giraffes with big dreams but little follow-through?
That’s the only fucking reason I can imagine why your theater is the way it is. You are a disaster.
Your own website stated that the 3 PM showing of Wolverine would be what you insolently refer to as a “Look’n'Dine” experience, with food from a very nice restaurant and a good movie. We even had to reserve seats in the special dine-in house online.
No fucking dice you goddamn shitbirds. Our theater was a lie with an overwhelming smell of wet drywall–regular theater, no dine-in, no reserved seating.
When we asked the ticket-ripper why this was the case, she said, and I quote, “I don’t know.” I responded with the reinforcement that it said on the website that it was a dine-in movie, and that I had reserved seats for one, she responded with, AND AGAIN I QUOTE, “I know.”
And then she turned around. It was the end of our conversation apparently, but not the end of your bullshit.
I was fucking starving, as it was 3 PM and I thought we were going to be able to order food, so we decided just to fucking deal (because hey, aren’t we being a little ridiculous?)n and buy concession food because we’re already here and surely it can’t get worse.
I got one hot dog, Adrian got one hamburger, and we split a small coke for TWENTY FIVE MOTHERFUCKIN’ DOLLARS. Are you aware of money? Apparently condiments are also not a thing you feel people want, so we lubed that dry-ass mini-hotdog with hatred.
Filled with emptiness at the thought of all the wasted money we’d already spent, we went into the theater which could be best described as “sad-sack board room.” This was where you really teabagged us with your lack of give-a-fuck.
The chair-backs inexplicably leaned forward and the seats refused to say down even when you sat in them, leading me to believe you don’t understand what a human body looks like or how one would comfortably watch a massive fucking screen while trying to fight a leather monster. I spent the next 2 hours (2 hours and 20 minutes if you count the fact that you were 20 minutes late to start the movie) with my knees jammed under the armrests and my back screaming just so I could be eye-to-eye with the bottom of the screen and not the floor.
I’ve never known a business who can’t wait to punish people for visiting them, but here I stand corrected. You’re like an abusive boyfriend, luring me in with dinners and movies and then punching me until I accept that I apparently deserve this kind of treatment.
Fuck you.– Favorite Comment From The Last Post: From Dana the Biped: I spent the entire commute home yesterday, alone in my car, arguing with the TSA.