Down the drain

The Prestige, which I just saw, is a film that will be long talked about within the circles I travel. No, not for it's clever trickery or apt use of British rock legends, but for the fact that it ruined the longest running streak I had going.

17 years without having to use the bathroom in a film - gone. Not since the original Batman in 1989 had I left the theatre mid-movie. Back then, I missed a crucial scene. I was a bit more tactful this time, at least optioning a moment when both Scarlett and Bowie were offscreen.

But why now, after all these years? I'm inclined to blame the dentist. Yes, the dentist I visited months ago who accidentally overcharged my credit card, and then, in trying to correct it, overcharged the card again - the very dentist that in order to atone for any ill-will mailed me the very free movie coupons with free drink that caused this demise. He of all people should have known it was bad for me!

I guess I can't hold a grudge. What really bothers me is that being a superstitious individual, the fate of it wasn't tied up more nicely. No, it couldn't have been Christopher Nolan's superlative resurrection of Batman that burst the dam - which would have brought the streak full circle - but only the film he made after that with many the same actors.

Here's to the end of an era. Yet still, I feel relief. And thirst.