The guy had a face made for dartboards. With the self-satisfied grin of a man whose only concern in life was that he was old and comfortable enough to no longer have any concerns, he surveyed the Sunshine Theatre for a place to sit. Spotting an empty seat next to a couple of thirty-something women, he broadcast to the entire auditorium, “Leave that one for me!”

Older men tend to demand things in situations like these, when civil inquiries would suffice. Even when no harm is intended, it comes across as rude. At any restaurant throughout America, you’re likely to see a man of a certain age tell a waiter, “Gimme a … “ Not a big deal, just one of those things you notice after awhile. At least it’s not as annoying as the Millennial men who use “upspeak,” an annoying vocal affectation where everything sounds like a question, and each sentence starts with “so.”

So the guy, who looked like the late actor Sam Wanamaker as Bernie Sanders, stepped out for a few minutes. When he came back, the ladies wisely had someone else take the seat he had claimed. Good for them, not so good for me. Quickly realizing no one was sitting next to me, he headed straight to the seat, without asking if it was taken.

I hoped this guy wouldn’t be as irksome as he appeared. He seemed to know the older women in front of us, kibitzing like a relatively normal person. So far so … uh oh, what was this? He started cupping his hands around his mouth, like he was playing harmonica. Was he … no, couldn’t be. Unfortunately, he wasn’t doing an impression of Corky Siegel. He was flossing.

I turned to my girlfriend and said, “This guy is flossing.” Glancing at the man in action, she had a look of disbelief. After registering this for a minute, she went back to her iPhone and typed away, silently praying I wasn’t going to call him out.

In “(The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes,” Elvis Costello sang, “Oh, I used to be disgusted and now I try to be amused.” Easier said than done, but worth a try. I stared at Bernie, watching him get every nook and cranny, bewildered at how repellent and tactless human beings could be. Noticing me staring at him, he stopped, smiled and said, “I gotta get the chicken out.” Instead of wanting to vomit, I actually laughed. He was a Eugene Levy character come to life. How could you not laugh?

However, not wanting to get chicken pieces potentially flying at me, I asked in my best calm but firm Pete Hamill “Hey pal” voice, “You don’t wanna do that in the bathroom?” Pausing for approximately one second, he replied “No!” It was in a bratty manner, like a child. I replied, “You’re a class act, sir” and left it at that. He may have been obnoxious and gross, but you can never tell an old man to go fuck himself. It’s just one of those rules of life you have to follow. Amusement won out over disgust. Elvis would be proud.

After the movie, my girlfriend and I were on Ninth Avenue. Two women walked by, looking like mother and daughter. The older one had a limp, while the younger one was way ahead. Suddenly stopping, she turned impatiently to the older woman and yelled at the top of her lungs, “LET’S GO!! I HAVE TO GO SHITSKI!!!!”

Hopefully, she made it in time.

Matt Leinwohl