Cinematic Irony

My first real blog story.

It's Monday afternoon, and Chris (from the blog) and I are out in town.
"Why don't we get our tickets for The Dark Knight today?" I ask, aware of the complications that can arise when trying to get into a Summer blockbuster. Chris agrees and, as I owe him probably over £10, I offer to buy his ticket as well. I go to the cash office and buy two tickets for the 20.30 showing of The Dark Knight on Thursday. Evening hours? Schools out? Opening night? It's gonna be busy.
We walk out.
"Are you going to give me my ticket?" Chris asks. Now, I know for a fact Chris is not one for remembering things. Forgetting a ticket this small is just his style, I remind him of this and insist on keeping a firm hold on the tickets.
"If anything happens to those tickets, you'll never hear the end of it!" Our friend Joe chips in. He's right. Chris would gloat for endless hours should I be so careless as to lose these tickets.

Anyway I arrive back home that night and fall almost immediately asleep. Upon waking up I'm repulsed by the amount of clothes in my washing bin. I decide to put a dark wash on.
I halfheartedly remove the coins and belt from my jeans, and shove the contents of the bin in the washing machine, crank it up to 40, and go and play on my Xbox

You can see where this is going can't you?

While enjoying a bootlegged clip of Heath's Joker killing a mobster with a pencil, I smugly remind myself I have tickets for the opening night, when a thought hits me
They were in my jeans, I took the coins out, did I... Oh shit!
I dash to the washing machine. The cycle has cruelly ended. There's nothing I can do. I remove the soggy mess of paper that is my 2 tickets and examine them. I might still be able to get away with them, I'll talk to the manager. But I'll never, ever live this moment down in front of Chris.

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