To the teenagers in the back row of the theater at a certain 20-screen movie establishment in Sunnyvale: We know what you were up to, and you’re lucky we didn’t get you kicked out of the ‘Venom’ showing. The clink of metal on the floor mystified my date and me at first until one of the objects you two were repeatedly dropping fell into our row. Whipped cream canisters! Ya’ll were huffing Whip-Its! (Which explains the heavy gasps between the clinks.) Once I realized what all the racket was about, I was less annoyed by the muffled giggles and dropping canisters than depressed by the fact that I was in proximity to the least glamorous bacchanal in the history of bacchanalia. That’s no laughing matter.
I Saw You is an anonymous “man on the street” column. Email your rants and raves about co-workers or any badly behaving citizens to iS*****@me*******.com, or send to 380 S. First St, San Jose, 95113. Submissions should stick to about 100 words.
