I had that kind of day today, so I thought I'd go unwind at the Silverbird galleria. I like to watch movies by myself, sometimes. When the movie finally started, I looked for a place where I could absorb the plot and lines of "Premonition" with Sandra Bullock. You know how it is with drama on the screen, one has to concentrate.

So the movie started with about 20 people scattered around the hall. After a short while, this guy came in with a girl and for some reason, chose to sit next to me, his girl, beside him. It didn't take long before his phone rang and he began a lengthy conversation on it. When he finished, he commenced another lengthy dialogue with the girl by his side.

When I couldn't take anymore, I clambered over a row of seats with my bottle of water, so as to get away from him and sat at the end of the row just in front. Then I felt popcorn thrown at me. I looked and there were two girls to my left side, looking at me. One had thrown the popcorn and she signalled me over. The seats between me and them were empty and even though I tried, I couldn't make out the face of the thrower. I felt it might be my friend, Deola, who's a maniac about movies. So I moved closer. Complete strangers. They stared back at me. The thrower asked me to stay where I was, right beside her, and I did. I felt she was some movie buff commiserating over the talkative I had fled from so I turned back to the screen.

Then I felt her hand on my arm. A caress. She did it again... and again. Asked me questions about the movie while pressed against my arm. When I sat forward in my chair, leaning away from her, she asked belligerently, "what's the matter with you?" I explained diffidently that "I had stuff I was thinking about". After that, there were no more caresses. I felt fleeing to another row of seats might cause other people in the hall to wonder about me. Then she looked at Sandra Bullock's eyes and said to the screen in a loud voice, "She(Bullock) knows this woman is "skrulling" her husband", cackled and repeated the line again for everone to hear. Then she asked me softly, "does she know that woman is skrulling her husband?" After trying to decipher for a few seconds, it struck me that she meant "screwing".

And then came the climax of the film and as people in the audience gasped repeatedly, she began to shriek in ibo (I could tell she was yoruba, so her expletives were ghastly in rendition). This time, I found the courage to flee towards Frank, the anchor of the Nigerian version of "Who wants to be a millionaire" who had come in sometime after the movie started. I spent the last few minutes with Frank and his friend, while my caressing friend sneaked glances at me, then I walked out with Frank. Frank, like his programme, had thrown me a "life-line". I didn't see her again.

You might meet the girl of your dreams in a dark hall at the theatre but I can bet she won't start carressing your arm 3 minutes after meeting her. I don't do tramps and I reckon I'm beyond sex for sex' sake now, or even worse, paying for it.

Maybe she's found someone else to skrull.