I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Sometimes. Sort of.
In fact I have come up with a name for this new condition: Temporary Ticket-Induced Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (TeTIObCoD). It is a condition that strikes whenever you buy a ticket with a seat number on it. For me it strikes every time I go to the cinema. Every. Time. Even when I obsess about not doing it before I purchase the ticket, I do it.
The typical scenario goes like this for me:
- Arrive at cinema as a normal person with wife and friends, (friends optional).
- Skip the queue and go to the self-service terminal that people over the age of 30 think is powered by voodoo and will therefore eat their souls.
- Feel smug about beating the queue.
- Check seat number.
- When leaving the ticket machine check seat number again.
- Start to feel a bit retarded about forgetting your ticket number again and having to check it so soon.
- Check seat number again before giving your ticket to the ticket-checker-person because obviously it might change whilst in their possession for the ticket-tearing ritual that they perform.
- Check once more when you get your ticket stub back because you can’t trust those squinty-eyed, unshaven, mumbling ticket-checker-people.
- Wander to the correct screen feeling like a full-blown retard who is incapable of remembering a seat number.
- in the last patch of good light before walking through the doors check seat number again.
- Sit in the wrong seat.
- Check ticket stub again and move to the correct seat.
- Forget about your retardedness as soon as the second movie trailer has finished.
- Watch the movie and leave with popcorn pieces on your lap feeling warm and fuzzy/entertained/terrified/thoughtful/like slitting your wrists depending on what movie you’ve just seen.
- Repeat next time you watch a movie.
I also do this with plane tickets.
I have found that the best way of curing TeTIObCoD is to give my ticket to my wife. That way I’m less crazy and I get to watch her go through it. Mwahahaha!