Trying not to be “that guy”

I talk back to the screen. I question why the screen writer took the plot of the story in one way instead of another or why the character that we haven’t seen in two episodes has apparently come back from the dead. I throw up my hands in frustration. 

When the CIA officer in the spy thriller, Homeland, looks right instead of left. I yell for her to look the other way, as if she’s going to hear me through the screen. When the criminal mastermind, who goes by the name “The Professor” in the Netflix series, Money Heist, keeps talking with the police negotiator, instead of watching the monitor to see that the SWAT team invading the Bank of Spain, I point for him to wake up. 

I throw out question after question, all good and reasonable ones, but no one answers me. 

Yes, I admit it, I’ve gotten into a bad habit of talking back to the television. It used to be a problem, but it’s gotten out of control. It’s so bad now that my kids refuse to watch whodunits, spy movies, and thrillers with me. They say that I ask too many questions and ruin the enjoyment of the movie or series. 

My youngest son has become so frustrated with me that he went on a rampage the other night. He could’ve done a five-minute monologue on one of the late-night television shows making fun of me. My wife didn’t say anything, but had a smirk and shook her head in agreement.

As a young kid, I used to hate when people would go to the movies and be talking out loud as the movie played out in front of them. I never wanted to be the loud and obnoxious one, so I naturally wonder now how I’ve become “that guy?” 

I try to keep quiet, but as the drama builds in a show or movie, the questions come fast and furious. I think of them faster then I can yell them out: 

• Why did he do that? 
• Why’s she taking her time rummaging through his wallet? Doesn’t she know that she’s going to get caught? 
• Who’s following him? 
• Are the woman and man good or bad?

Fortunately for me, my wife hasn’t banned me from watching with her, but I think she’s getting close. I can always tell after the fact when I’ve gone over the edge. We’ll turn the TV off and she’ll give me a look that could kill. 

After times like these, I wonder if I should just stick with books!