I just took a Greyhound bus from Boston to New York. The in-ride film? The Longest Yard. You know: Adam Sandler (?!) stars as a washed-up quarterback who goes to jail through various Courtney Cox–related plot mechanisms and ends up leading a football team of convicts, including Nelly and Chris Rock, against the corrupt prison guards. There are some lessons learned about race. I mean, I know it’s a remake, but this shit is just criminally retarded. Put it in jail and don’t let it play football. And the worst thing is that I’ve already seen the damn movie — on a previous Greyhound bus ride.
Apparently, though, I’m alone in my animosity toward The Longest Yard. Thanks to the frankly diabolical machinations of a young couple who passive-aggressively ousted me from my original seat, I ended up in the very back of what Greyhound quaintly calls “the coach.” Right next to the bathroom, just where I like to be. And as it turned out, the second the movie ended, literally a dozen people raced back to pee. No one had done so previously. In other words, a non-negligible fraction of the bus population “held it” for as long as two hours because they could not tear themselves away from the comedy stylings of NFL superstar A. Sandler. Even the upper-crust dude next to me, Atlantic Monthly in hand, seemed entranced.
Sometimes I despair.
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