Team Boy In The Lobby

New Moon, Oh Em Gee.

All I have to say is Chris Weitz can give Catherine Hardwicke a big, fat “Nah nah nah nah nah” because he? Is gifted.  He managed to prop me atop the fence, one leg on both sides, questioning my vampidelity.  Cuz that werewolf? Can roll around in the woods with me any day.

Any. Day.

The plot was coherent, the acting refreshing, the abs were…..galore.  And not just any abs.  The screen covers the entire wall, so……..BIG abs.  Big, tanned, shiny abs.  And biceps.  And calves.  Even the fingers looked like muscles.  GAWD, I’m sweating again.  Jen, Amy & I drooled puddles.  Michele still prefers tear ducts over sweat glands.

It was everything we thought it would be.


You know how sometimes, on a really good day, you stop and think “Man, I’m having a really good day!” and then God gives you just one more little dollup of Cool Whip atop your Good Day Pie?  Well.  God gave us the whole friggin’ tub, Y’all.

We were coming out from doing the obligatory post-movie pee just before exiting the theater and walking the quarter mile back to the car when a mighty ray of sun shone down from the Heavens as if to say “Liz, please, have one more dollup of Cool Whip.  On me.”

Right outside the restroom door stood a replica of Taylor Lautner.  Complete with zip-up hoodie, iPod, bronzed skin and a chin cleft.  And Folks, he wasn’t cardboard.

ME:  “Holy Hell.  Did you see him?”

Don’t ask me who I was talking to.  Luckily, Jen was walking right next to me and yes, she heard me and yes, she saw him.

Insert the hormones and giddy laughter of two 15-year-old girls.

ME & JEN:  “Amy!  Did you see him?!”

AMY:  “Mmm hmmm.  Sure did.”

(She was so nonchalant, like Coooool Amy.  On the inside, though, she was all “Oooooooo, Sookie!  Come to Mama!”  Trust me.  It’s just that, unlike Jen and I, Amy and Michele like to wear their morals on their sleeves.)

By now, not only have we turned around to catch another glimpse, but we’ve noticed that he’s no less than 5 feet behind us, walking in the same direction.  Close enough for our insides to turn to Jell-O.  Jen, Michele and I left the rest of our party to get the car and pick them up at the curb.  I had to glance at my left ring finger more than once on the way as a reminder that I am not in any position (or age bracket) to be swooning like this over a teenage boy.  But GAWD HE WAS PURTY!  The kind of purty that makes you want to slap your mama.  Twice.

No lie, we all but ran to the truck, blazed down the parking lot and whipped through a U-turn just to see if he was still standing there.  All 17 years of him.

He wasn’t.

We decided his parents must have picked him up already.

So, yes, New Moon was scrumptious and yes, we’ll be at the midnight feature when Eclipse comes out and yes, we’ll be going to the same theater and yes, I’ll totally get a stalker pic of him with my camera phone if I see him again.

Good God in Heaven, I love Cool Whip.



2 responses to “Team Boy In The Lobby

  1. Liz, you can sound all pedophile you want, but I’m saying he was at least 18!!!! TOO HOT!!!

  2. Pingback: When It’s Your Turn « The Wit Factory

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