Gum in My Hair

An embarrassingly honest blog

Repo: My Gothic Faux Pas February 2, 2009

Filed under: Blush Face,Shut Your Mouth! — dulcedementia @ 11:58 pm

About two weeks ago, I went to this one night only showing of the movie Repo: The Genetic Opera. It’s being talked about like it’s the next rocky Horror Picture Show and I was curious to know what the hub bub was all about.In case you were wondering, Repo is a rock opera about a future society that has financed a wave of organ transplants and the financier has somehow passed a bill through congress that it is legal to “repossess” organ transplants that have been financed. There’s a lot more to it, but that’s the gist. If you want to find out more, here’s the website:


Well, the gang and I got there with about 15 minutes to spare and there was a bunch of folks all dressed up in costumes and a bunch of Goths and lots of interesting people just standing around. Me being the avid people watcher, I took it all in.


When we finally got in, trying to find 8 seats together proved to be problematic. Finally, I turned to a gentleman wearing mostly black and a gas mask and asked if seats next to him were taken. Now, this must have looked just as dubious for him as it did for me. Here was this little 5’2″ girl in some cutesy little baby doll dress and brown tights and knee high flat-heeled boots, her hair all did and with sensible makeup on, asking him politely if she could sit next to him. I bet he thought I was going to be a total buzzkill.


Well. I was.


Before the movie began, someone announced they were going to have a costume contest. I, being the kind and considerate person that I am, turned to my neighbor and said, “Do you need me to let you out?”


He stared at me with a puzzled look.


“You know, for the costume contest.”


He replied, “Whatever, I dress like this all the time.”


This is the point where I should have just shut up, turned around and minded my own business.


But I didn’t.


“Oh well, I’ve never seen the movie and I didn’t know what type of costumes there are. Plus, your girlfriend is all dressed up cute like Little Bo Peep.”


(Now, in my defense, I had seen two other girls dressed up like Bo Peep that night. I thought there must have been some sort of shepherdess character in the movie.)


The man scoffed, and his girlfriend shot forward talking to her boyfriend, “What did she say?”


“She said she thinks you look cute.”


The woman gave me a look that at once had both disgust and pity for the fact that I did not understand her outfit’s irony.


I quickly threw in, “Of course, I mean that in an ironic way.”


He sort of glared at me and said, “I’m sure you do.”


Finally, I was able to shut my trap.


About freaking 30 seconds too late.


I spent the next two hours in complete agony trying to think of a way to endear myself to this obviously morose couple, but when the movie ended and they started complaining about it immediately, I decided that I do not need to endear myself to anyone who takes a rock opera about organ repossession that seriously.


Especially when one of the stars is Paris Hilton.


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