So, you’re in a movie theater with your wife getting ready to watch an afternoon film, after having a nice “date” lunch, and you decide you need to get a message to your three-year-old daughter for some reason. She’s at daycare. You text. Maybe you just wanted your three-year-old daughter to know that mommy and daddy would be there in time to pick her up. Won’t be late because of the movie.
The next thing you know you’re dead.
You’re dead because another guy, sitting with his wife in the seats behind you, apparently had a major problem with you texting in the dimly lit place, just before the movie was to begin. And the guy in the theater with the major problem was carrying a gun. His manliness thus weaponized, he confronted you and told you to put your phone away. You tried to explain to him about your three-year-old daughter. He wouldn’t have it. He said he was going to get an usher or manager, but he came back alone. And even more irritated. Voices were raised. Soon, so was a gun. His gun. He shot you in your chest, your wife getting hit in the hand because she instinctively tried to shield your body.
And because you and the killer were in stand-your-ground Florida, the killer, a retired police captain, now claims that he feared for his life. His lawyer argues that it was your fault for being the “aggressor.” You apparently tossed a box of popcorn at the killer.
Which, like texting in a theater, can be an offense worthy of death in the National Rifle Association’s America.
Alas, let’s face it. These days, just going to a movie in the National Rifle Association’s America can be deadly.