So like I said on Wednesday, it gets worse. Except this part is more embarrassing than anything else, and I’m the one who’s embarrassed.
Little-Miss-Junior-Frappucino’s mother is all excited about the new Star Wars movies. She’s never seen Star Wars, and she knows nothing about Star Wars, but she’d like to take Junior Frappucino and her brother to see them, provided that the films are age appropriate.
(I’m not sure when age appropriateness became such a huge concern of hers, seeing as Junior Frap is waddling around in Disney Princess stripper shoes, but far be it from me…)
She begins polling various coffee shop patrons about their thoughts. She polls the baristas too and my friend Rich the dog walker.
“Are they good?” she asks.
Of course they’re good, I find myself thinking. Why do you think Disney just bought the rights to the last three?
“They’re great,” Rich the dog walker replies. “Except for the prequels. But Lucas has given up ownership on the last three so there’s a chance they’ll actually be decent.
Of course they’ll be decent. (This time I’m hearing TWD’s voice in my head.) It’s Disney!
“Is there sex?” she asks.
Of course there’s no sex.
“No,” Rich tells her.
“Is it violent? Like that guy Luke Lightsaber? Is he violent?”
Luke Lightsaber? Luke LIGHTSABER? What is wrong with this woman?
If I didn’t despise her so much I would correct her, but I can’t stand her, so I let the baristas do my dirty work.
“Luke’s last name is Skywalker,” one of them explains, “Lightsaber is the name of the sword they use.”
I’m praying that she’s going to shut up now so I can get back to work but she’s not done yet.
“Is there cursing?”
Cursing? Of course there’s no cursing.
“No. Not really,” Rich answers. “They just insult each other. Usually in other languages, or they call each other names.”
“What kind of names?”
“Names that don’t make sense. Like animals. But animals that are only in Star Wars.” He pauses, trying to think of an example. “Names like ‘Oh you herder!”
You herder? You HERDER?
This is too much. I’m about to explode. I feel like Sheldon in Big Bang Theory when he’s trying to explain something but Leonard and gang won’t let him talk: my eyebrows are twitching, the veins are popping out of my neck and I’m starting to sweat.
But I don’t care. I don’t care about this woman. And I really don’t even care about Star Wars.
But seriously, how could you get that line wrong?
It’s a classic…
“It’s nerf herder!” I feel myself shout. “She calls him a scruffy-looking nerf herder!”
The coffee shop falls silent.
All eyes are on me.
“That’s the line,” I say quietly. “It’s what Leia says to Han.”
I can’t believe I know this. I can’t believe I just said this. What has happened to me?
Right… I started dating TWD.
“Are you a Star Wars fan?” my arch nemesis asks, all smiles all of the sudden.
“Not really,” I stammer. “But my boyfriend is. I don’t have a choice.”
And here ends today’s rant. Thankfully I’m reviewing a show at the Barnes tonight… (i.e. real culture!)