It was the summer of 1992 and my friend, Patricia, had invited me over to her house to watch a movie.When I got there, I was disappointed to learn that the movie was Wayne’s World — the very flick I’d refused to see when it had come out the year before because it had seemed, to my eleven year-old eyes, ridiculous.
But, you know, we were at her house, so we were going to watch the movie she’d picked. I sat down on the couch, prepared to be bored out of my mind. And the rest, as they say, is history.