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The Beleaguered Woman Who Actually Wants to Watch Dances With Wolves
It's a well-accepted fact that trying to hit wolves with Milk Duds in an almost-empty movie theater is a great, constructive activity for high school students, strengthening both hand-eye coordination and hysterical-giggling muscles. But in retrospect (that movie reference didn't date me, did it?), the person who kicked those Milk-Dud Mickey Mantles out of the theater wasn't merely being a total buzz-kill. I still remember the worried-looking older woman who had summoned the usher. She looked not angry but disappointed, and unsettlingly like my own grandmother. Although my rabble-rousing friend whispered, "Jerk," I knew in that moment that we were, in fact, the jerks, that this person was a student teacher of sorts, introducing the mind-altering concept that even though we were teenagers, that was still no excuse to be a jerk. And it stands—even though you're 22, even though you're 97, even though you're distracted by your friends or a guy or your kids—that's no excuse to be a jerk.


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