Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

I sneaked off and went to a matinee yesterday. Alone.

It started innocently enough over the weekend, when a Facebook friend lamented in a status update that her parents had seen the new Start Trek movie before she had. The self-description she applied was “nerd,” a self-deprecating appellation resulting in a bit of sympathetic chatter, among them my comment that I’d been thinking of going to a matinee.

I hadn’t been, of course, but one of the joys of Facebook is popping off random thoughts whose main attachment to reality is good intention. But then, a slot opened up with Ben York, who does computer repair and upgrading. I dropped off my computer midday, an act which ended the possibility of meaningful work for the next couple of hours.

Of course, there’s always work to be done. But lately, all the undone work hovering around like an iron shadow has made me feel like a dog on a waxed hardwood floor—I just can’t keep up. On the way back to the office, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to stop by the movie complex and see what was going on. Just because you’re on a diet doesn’t mean you can’t read the menu, after all.

I parked in a remote area of the lot in case someone passing by might recognize it. The box office was around the corner, and I kind of sidled along the wall feeling like an 18-year-old with a fake ID in a liquor store who’s just seen his parents’ best friends pull up. The chances of Star Trek beginning at that moment had to be remote—a percent possibility of point oh-two to the 87th power, Spock might have said.

Crunch time. A showing had begun ten minutes ago. A voice said to me, “Oh, you tried, but you can’t watch it under these circumstances and miss the beginning." But another voice weighed in, saying,, “Move it, Moron, you’ll just be missing the previews and some stupid ads.”

I paid and scuttled inside, not even knowing how much change I got back from a twenty. The excuses I could offer if caught or challenged began peeling off my imagination. I could say I was seeing clients, I thought. Real estate agents do have a certain facility with obfuscating the boundaries among clients, friends and the world at large.

A bit of preliminary mayhem had begun on the screen, but I took my seat in darkness and anonymity nonetheless. That is, I think it was in anonymity because I sure as hell didn’t look to see who else was there. The only possible traitor was my Iphone, a marvelous device that has the effect of making everyone you know think you are always available. I shut the damn thing off.

And the movie was pretty good, thank you. Maybe I’ll do a review later.