How NOT to Watch Charlie's Angels
by Rich Bruso
January 2001
Chute Cowboy: n. Slang term for a cameraperson filming a parachute stunt sequence.
The Mensa movie night started off innocently enough. Amy and I arrived at approximately 6:30. After wandering aimlessly for a few minutes, Doug located us and brought us back to his table in the food court. Apparently there was some sort of Pokémon tournament happening. After realizing that we were the only ones likely to show, we decided to see Charlie's Angels. There was only one problem: the next show was at 7:50. Not a problem, we can wander through the mall. To pass time we had a nice chat with Omar, the quarter operated psychic near the candy machines. Both Amy and I were happy with our readings, leaving Doug to curse Omar's electronic heart.
After several video games in the theater lobby, we finally purchase tickets at about 7:40. The theater was empty, so we took the seats behind the rail. Two or three more small groups filtered in, ruining our chances for a "Mystery Science Theater 3000"-style discussion of the movie. Oh, well. Instead, we passed the time watching the pre-movie entertainment. Among the ads for Dillard's and Coke were several movie terms. One was "Chute Cowboy". Of course, the definition given was not what we initially thought it was. Strangely enough, prison came to mind. Some movie screen shots were also shown during the previews, leading to discussions of which actors looked like they fit our alternate definition.
We first noticed that the previews were repeating at around 8:00. Hmm, the movie hadn't started. Just then, the lights began to dim and the speakers began playing the audio portion of the movie previews. That's when the noise started. Have you ever had tape player eat a cassette? Ah, the lovely sound of malfunctioning equipment. The sound played quicker and quicker until the operator shut it off. The lights came back up. After a moment, the still-frame previews began again. By that time, the mere mention of "Chute Cowboy" was enough to elicit laughter from the group directly behind us. A second attempt was made to play the soundtrack at 8:10, but it also failed miserably. Uttering "Chute Cowboy" brought groans and vague, mumbled threats. The third attempt was even worse, sounding like an "Alvin and the Chipmunks" concert. This time, when the lights came up we were serenaded by music.
I had no idea that Jewel had a Christmas album. I always thought something was missing from "Winter Wonderland", but I didn't realize that the missing element was yodeling. Mercifully, the song ended. Unfortunately, the next song began. Trauma sometimes causes short-term memory loss, so I can't seem to recall what was playing. I do remember that at one time Faith Hill began singing. The three of us had already begun wandering for the exit. We arrived in the lobby with tickets in hand. The attendant didn't even ask our reason for a refund. After recording our names and addresses, they refunded our money. We left the mall with the thought that the evening's entertainment had only cost two bags of popcorn and a two Cokes.
Back to Borderline Mensa