I've been busy with Jill and I's fashiony blog, so this one has fallen by the wayside. Sorry, lone loyal reader :D (Hi, Kate!)
This is yet another story from my woeful love life.
I went to The Flicks (the local art house theater) Monday for the very late showing of "The Reader." Art houses are weird, cause unlike the great huge multiplexes, you tend to see the same people and often strike up conversations with other moviegoers.
Back to Monday! An older woman and I struck up a conversation about recent movies we'd seen. I mentioned that I'd seen Milk recently, and she said she could remember the Milk-Moscone murders. She asked what I thought of the movie, and I told I had mixed feelings because the secondary characters, especially activist Cleve Jones, were so poorly developed.
Really this has a point, I swear, bear with me!
Then she told me I should see the movie about the early days of the HIV/AIDS epidemic in the States, but couldn't remember the name of it. Not Philadelphia, not Angels in America, but that other one. The third person in the theater, a guy in the back, piped up and said it was a great movie, but he couldn't remember its name either.
After the movie, the guy came up to me and said he'd remembered the name, "And The Band Played On." I said, "Oh yea, that's based on a book by the same guy who wrote the definitive biography of Milk." I got a weird look, to which I responded, "I read it on the back of the Milk book." The guy and I talked some more and then he asked for my number, which, given that he was tall and dark-haired and apparently gay friendly, yet straight, I happily gave.
He finally called me last night, so hopefully we can actually meet up and discuss things not related to Holocaust movies, such as The Reader, or HIV/AIDS. :)
OK, maybe this really didn't have a point!