With a rare day off on Saturday I thought heading to the movies would be a nice way to spend the afternoon.
Firstly it was a lunch with friends on The Strand and then my boy and I headed to see The Hunger Games at the Mount's cinema.
We'd prebought the tickets so there was no need to queue. We picked up icecreams and drinks and then headed into what we hoped was a really good movie.
It had been compared to Twilight although I was praying it would be one hell of a lot better than that yawn-inducing angst.
The Hunger Games was excellent with a great plot, well realised on the screen, an excellent script and charismatic characters.
But, it has to be said, the movie was unfortunately marred by a creature that seems to thrive in darkened cinemas. Yup, the talking, texting, tiresome teen.
Actually, it was an acne of them who proceeded to yak upon entry and then continued, almost non-stop, until the credits started rolling at the end.
They were having a wonderful time and it did make me question why they bothered going to the movie at all as they probably missed most of it.
Now here I have to hold my hand up as, usually, I am one of those types who will either shussh noisy annoyances in movie theatres or will even go as far as standing over them yelling "shut up" to the faces.
This day, I just chilled trying to enjoy the movie and let others do the correction attempts.
What did come to mind, however, is that I had spent $32 on the tickets and another $18 on munchies to pog into while watching.
These little brutes didn't have to pay full ticket prices and so couldn't really care less if they missed what was happening, or being said, on screen. Neither would they give anyone else's enjoyment a second thought.
I reckon cinemas need to introduce a yakking tax. If you are in a group of more than four teenagers then you should pay full adult price because those lips just can't be kept shut for two hours and 20 minutes.
Also, cinemas need to spend a little bit on one extra staff member who patrols the darkened expanses with a torch and firstly warns, then ejects, people who yap during movies. Just like good old days.
***
Learning from the Gerry Brownlee School of Diplomats is Kuwait, which recently discovered the dangers of trusting the internet too much.
The sporting sheiks were rattled when, at a ceremony to celebrate a gold medal for Kazakhstan's shooting team, they played the bogus version of the Kazakh anthem made famous in the movie Borat.
If you remember Borat created chaos at an American rodeo by singing the song to the tune of the Star Spangled Banner, America's anthem.
Mega oops.
Needless to say the Kazakhs, whose country is the number one exporter of potassium and is not run by little girls, were mightily miffed.
And fair enough too.
I reckon the Kuwaiti responsible deserved a darned good sheiking.
***
Two sweet little gals knocked on my office door the other day raising funds by selling chocolate.
Not having any change I had to hand them a $10 for my $2.50 purchase of one bar. (No it wasn't me being niggardly, I just didn't want tempting choccy in the house.)
Anyway the transaction was going along swimmingly until they had to work out how much change to give me. Puzzlement turned to confusion before they started chucking numbers around like a desperate gambler at a roulette wheel.
"How much change? asks I, wanting to test the much-lauded New Zealand education system.
"Umm, $8.50?"
If only, I thought, crikey I could make a fortune at this.
"No, try again."
"Umm, $3.50?"
"Nah-uh."
"Umm, $1.50?"
"Look gals," says I becoming slightly concerned at the amount of time this was taking, "What do you get if you take $2 from $10?"
There's a bit of a conflab between the pair.
"Umm, $8?"
"Hooray, yes that's right. So what do you get when you take 50 cents from $8?"
"Umm. $7?"
OMG!
"It's $7.50 gals, so can I please have $7.50."
They are all smiles now and hand over ... $7.20.
All I can say is that the maths teachers at Tahatai Coast School may need to do a bit of serious remedial work in the addition and subtraction department.