
The hardest part of being divorced is learning to go out again. Going out solo feels agoraphobic, with conversations amplified, the awkwardness apparent, the ring still on the finger. It took forever to become comfortable in my own skin again, dump the ring, and learn to appreciate myself for who I am.
As I branched out more and more, I fell in love with going to the movies alone. I could reserve my seat in the center, grab a Coke Zero at exorbitant cost, and enjoy a matinee flick of a popular movie with a light crowd. I was still apprehensive of large gatherings, so going to an opening night show was a no-no for me. The 2nd or 3rd weekend flicks were definitely my go-to.
As I attended my matinee at various theaters, the sound would periodically go out. I would sigh, look around at nobody else making a move, and get up and alert the manager immediately.
After a few minutes, and after I had retaken my seat, the sound would magically come back on. The crowd was usually oblivious, distracted by their phones and loud popcorn munching. The show went on when it almost didn’t.
Let’s talk about assumptions and why.
“Assumption is the Mother of All F🤬ck Ups”
In the 90’s there was a Steven Siegal flick called Under Siege about someone taking over a Navy ship.
Siegal, a Navy SEAL, was serving as the cook for the Captain when all the shit went down. Siegal then went all “Die Hard” and saved the day.
Many moralize the movie as showing how someone who appears ordinary (a cook) can do something extraordinary (save the world).
I don’t remember the movie for any morals, or even Gary Busey’s best acting performance.
I remember it for its sequel: Under Siege 2 – The Train One
The sequel is mostly forgettable. Somehow Siegel has a daughter, and she’s on a train taken over by paramilitary experts. Again, Siegel needs to go all “Die Hard” and stop the villains before they use a space laser to nuke the world.
However, one quote in the movie stands out.
One of the villains, the hard-ass military stand-in, remarks when someone makes an “assumption” about a dead body.
“Assumption is the mother of all fuck-ups.” he replies angrily.
This quote stood out for me because it rings absolutely true. Assumptions (at least bad ones) are a detriment to most situations.
In the case of the movie theater and the sound going out, I imagine the other moviegoers are making their own assumptions.
For example, maybe the projectionist will notice and turn the sound back on. Or, perhaps someone else will get up and complain. Or the problem will fix itself magically as the movie progresses.
Or the reality. The sound will not come on unless someone does something.
And that someone who does something needs to be you. Because…
The Projectionist Doesn’t Always Know The Sound Went Out
My ex-wife worked in a movie theater as a projectionist. She hated it. She said it was loud, chaotic, and it was easy to mess things up.
However, she loved the isolation and could read and do other things in between changing reels.
When I asked her if she could hear the movie, she replied in the negative.
“The booth is basically soundproof,” she explained. “It’s loud in there. No one on the outside wants to hear that.”
“So how do you communicate?” I asked.
“Through radio usually,” she explained further.
“Do you watch the movies?”
“Not usually. We have a small monitor for the sound, but we usually have it down pretty low due to the distractions.”
My ex-wife had her uses. I was now armed with the knowledge that the projectionist behind us was blissfully unaware of the audience in front of them. This included any sound that may or may not be playing.
Ushers aren’t always around, especially for non-peak shows. If the sound goes out, and the projectionist doesn’t know, then who notices and does something?
The reality is, the person who has noticed is you.
There Are No Stupid Questions, Just the Stupid Person Asking the Question
My Filipino work colleagues confided in me once, “Americans make it difficult to ask questions.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
They would explain. In American culture, we expect some basic knowledge of the task at hand. For example, if we’re asking someone to be a cashier, we expect them to learn the machine, count the money, and provide customer service. This training is often accelerated, learned on the job, under pressure, and at a fast pace. We expect people to learn quickly and usually on their own.
For the Filipinos I worked with in Cebu, their culture needs to understand the process and the “why” before proceeding to the next step. Their work needs purpose and understanding; otherwise, morale plummets. The capitalist entrepreneurship spirit that exists in America hasn’t quite taken hold over there. If something is worth doing, it needs to be understood.
This need for understanding resulted in a lot of “dumb” or basic questions, which irritated our American colleagues. For the Americans, they wanted the Filipinos to do their own research, learn from their own findings, and take initiative. For the Filipinos, they lacked the basic foundational elements of the task and did not have someone adequately explain the objectives and goals. In other words, they didn’t know where to get started and needed to know how. There was no mentorship, and there was no tolerance for it.
I always told my juniors that there are no stupid questions, just the stupid person asking the question. They’d chuckle because I encouraged openness on my team and tolerated any questions. If the junior needed more research, I’d point them to the resource.
As a result of my openness with my team, they learned to ask more questions without fear. I gave them some glimpses into how Americans think, corrected their English when asked, and encouraged them to learn public speaking to be more assertive. They would confide in me that they would speak out more at company meetings, asking the harder questions nobody dared to ask. I was proud.
The Person to Act Is You
I learned long ago that if you’re waiting for someone else to act, no one will.
So when the sound goes out in the theater, and nobody is making a move, I will be the first one out of my seat to alert a manager.
He’ll be irritated when you approach him. Perhaps he already knows. It doesn’t matter. Don’t assume.
“Sorry to bother you, sir, but the sound in Theater 11 is out.”
“Godam🤬it,” he’d say, and get on his radio.
Or sometimes: “We’re aware of it. Thank you.”
There was no harm in me getting out of my seat to alert the staff.
I’d walk back into the theater and retake my seat. The sound would still be out, and the moviegoers would start looking around awkwardly.
Then the sound blasts back on, filling the theater once again.
The Show Goes On…
Assumptions were challenged. Past knowledge was recycled. Questions were asked. Actions were taken.
After a brief interruption and some awkward silence, I can once again enjoy my movie.
The moral being: challenge your assumptions, and don’t be afraid to be the first one to act, even if you end up looking like an idiot. You just might be the silent hero.








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