The adorably emotional man in the movie theater next to Alison James ’13 kept trying to pass off his tears as a knife wound to the eye during their favorite historical drama.
“No, honey, it’s not a big deal,” Cameron Stein ’12 said, holding back sobs and gripping his left eye. “I just have a little knife in my eye, and I can’t get it out. This kind of thing happens all the time.”
James initially approached the situation by pulling a tissue from her purse and attempting to dab the tears from Stein’s cheeks before gently yanking at the knife’s wooden handle. Stein, however, visibly uncomfortable with the public display of affection, refused to accept further help until his girlfriend would verbally agree that he needed them not because he was crying but because he needed something to wrap the bloody knife in.
“It’s fine to be open with your feelings, honey. I know that nothing as painless as a penetrating stab wound make you cry like this. You can be open with me,” James was overheard whispering throughout the movie above sweeping, romantic music.
“I know it’s alright for me to be sensitive, and I’m sure real men should have a safe outlet for their emotions, but for some reason I now have a machete in my other eye and I’m not sure if my eyes watering is going to be enough to push both knives out,” he said as he ran to the bathroom with tears streaming down his face, clearly overtaken by the image of a young Victorian woman crying in a rainy field on-screen.
James, after taking a long look at her sensitive boyfriend’s empty seat, began fanning herself with both hands and sniffling. In reality however, it was not the touching moment that induced her tears, but rather the rogue juices of an onion being chopped beside her in the theater.