Recently I sat in a confined space with the smell of rancid oil, mutant teenagers and was bombarded with ads for the Adelaide Hills.
Why? I paid to do it – I was at the movies.
It’s about now I should mention the principle of karma. Karma is an ancient Indian spiritual practice, created by The Beatles, that means if you so much as look at a cockroach with impure thoughts, the cockroach will come after you with karmic zeal and proceed to wreck your Saturday night. All in the name of cosmic balance.
It all started a few weeks ago when we had a cockroach infestation. After the softly softly approach and Shannon Lush’s home-brew suggestions of cold-pressed confit of lemon, dash of Tibetan bicarb and single-origin bay leaf didn’t work, we brought in the big guns. In each corner of the kitchen we placed a cockroach killer bait which looked like a midget Darth Vader.
Fastforward a few weeks later, the cockroaches were gone and we arranged to meet our friends for a casual night at the movies. Life was good. Too good. But the karmic-debt situation wasn’t looking too good. We had aided and abetted a lot of cockroaches with their assisted deaths.
We choose the movie, paid the online fee for booking our own tickets and being our own clerk, (see 7/7/10 Rant, Congratulations – you are you’re own clerk), paid the extra 3D fee, and then $47 later, we arrived at the complex and were all set to go.
Almost. After mandatory carpark hell we were all set to go.
Not so fast. We had around 45 minutes before the movie so decided to get something to eat in the food court, that doubles as a breeding ground for food not known to have any actual food ingredients.
Then it was time for the movie. The movie was ok and it was nice to see our friends again.
It cost $80, we experienced carpark hell and bad food but the cockroach karmic debt was repaid. Till next time.