That's the last time I go to the movies with John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt.

Talk about a circus.

First of all, whenever I'm hanging out with John, everybody assumes that my name is also John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt. Come on. What are the odds that there are two John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidts in the world, let alone that they would be hanging out with each other at La Salsa?

Usually, it'll be John who calls me to see what's going on.

"Hey man!"

"Uggghhhh, hey John. How's it going?"

"Great! Wanna go see 'The Pacifier?'"

"Uhhhh, surrrrrreee. Why not."

"Great! See ya soon."

Everything'll be fine until the movie gets out. That's when the crowd notices John and all hell breaks loose. Whenever we get out, those goddamn people always shout, they shout "John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt!!!! Dah dah dah dah, dah dah dah!!!"

Then they'll usually break into rounds. Every single time. It's infuriating.

John seems to be cool with it, he says it's been happening to him for as long as he remembers and that he doesn't even hear the chanting any more. I get the feeling that for some sick reason he actually likes all the attention.

Little does he know though, I would never go through all this crap if his sister wasn't so damn hot.