Doing things alone can be intimidating.

Raising children solo might be tricky and by the way that bloody red hen was banging on about it, growing grain to make bread is pretty tough too, but nothing is so daunting as the prospect of going to the cinema alone.

For some reason, going to the movies has always been a social activity – because eating buttery cholesterol puffs while staring at a screen and not talking to the other person sounds like a pretty good way to get to know each other if you ask me. Movie theatres have always been pretty intimidating for me, which probably has a lot to do with the type of people who would hang out there in my golden adolescence. The cinema doors were also the main drop-off point for the shopping centre, so you had to face the dirty skegs every time you went “down town”. 13-year-old Dannielle would be just trying to get down to Supré for another raa raa skirt and these drongos would be sitting around with nothing better to do with their lives than stare you down. Turning up alone usually meant they would yell things at you. So the prospect of going to such an establishment alone has always been met with a certain level apprehension.

But on Sunday, I set myself a challenge. I dared myself to go to a movie alone. I’m not usually one for space movies that don’t have Bruce Willis in a starring role, but there was quite a bit of hype going on around one particular film, and even though I had no friends I could physically discus said film with, I do enjoy knowing that people are talking about on The Google. So I made the decision to get myself to a movie theatre and watch it. I never saw myself as the type to be so desperate to see a Matthew McConaughey movie that I would go it alone, but apparently that’s the reality I’m living in.

It’s a pretty big step in my life, so I wanted to document my experience. As always, I was slightly unorganised, and didn’t have time/couldn’t be arsed to log my thoughts before taking off, or to devise a clever way of recording my experiences. And because I was in a public place in which people are usually in groups, I decided to text myself. I’ve compiled those texts here.

There were certain times when I couldn’t actually text myself mostly because these movie people apparently frown on having bright lights while a motion feature is played. So I’ve also compiled the texts I would have sent myself.

My adventure begins when I step through the cinema doors, unflanked by the social weapons of plebs that make me look popular.

3.49pm buys ticket. Points out cashier’s Hunger games pin saying, “do you all have to wear that?” with a monotone delivery. Comes across much ruder than anticipated.

2.50pm the seat selection game begins. Scans theatre for less crowed rows of seats, taking care not to meet the gaze of friended-up movie-goers. Opts for the back row, reasoning that the back seat of a bus was the row for the cool kids and a theatre should be no different. Apparently no one in this town is cool, because the entire row is empty. Picks seat in the dead centre.

The actual (but somewhat doctored for reasons of literary consistency and humour) texts are as follows:

2.59pm opens pump bottle with mouth. Miraculously managed to spill water down tight cardigan sleeve and has to spit out the plastic cover on the sly. I’m undercover here, and I don’t want to attract attention.

3.01pm another lone ranger sits three seats away from me. The back seat is not longer the place for cool kids. Remembers that the back seat was filed with whackjobs in my high school years, such as the guy who would carry two pocket knives to cut holes into the seat where he would shove his Ritalin instead of taking it as prescribed.

3.02pm feels uncomfortable for texting while the obligatory “shut your phone off you bastard” ad plays. Hopes no one cottons on to the fact that I am actually texting myself.

3.06pm remembers the prunes consumed less than two hours ago.

This is the points when the lights darken and the movie begins.

Had I have been able to send texts to myself from my brain without going through the menial tasks of using my fingers and some form of technology, the rest of the afternoon would have unfolded like this:

3.40pm hears people chomping on popcorn, justifies that snacking is appropriate. Pulls one of the four stashed carrots from my handbag and attempts to take the stealthiest bite known to man, in an attempt to make it sound like I was also eating butter-covered slaty puffs.

3.41pm Bite sounds normal, subsequent chewing does not. Instantly recalls that time I was busted sneaking a carrot through security at the airport (I had a pair so scissors in my bag, so I had to go to the back of the line and remove it. When I went thought again, the cranky redhead said “I thought I told you to take all your lotion [my word, not his] out of your bag!” I then try to explain that I don’t have a plastic bag of lotion, while he says “hang on, is that a carrot in there?!” sparking a uproar of laughter amongst every airport staff in earshot, so loud my feeble attempts to defend myself with a “you know it’s a notorious snack” is barely audible.)

3.42pm swallows under-chewed raw vegetable so as not to disturb the other guests.

4.23pm gets a serious fright when something bangs (spoiler alert!) suddenly becomes aware of how alone I am as I try to compose myself.

5.49pm movie finishes, is glad that no one is around because said feature film packed too much into the last 20 minutes with cylindrical living pods completely unexplained, making any utterances in regards to the film quite silly sounding. Looks at coupled people below in attempt to gauge their response.

5.50pm Becomes aware of bros re-entering giggling consciousness, gets up to leave before said evolved males turn their laughter towards the sole sister a few seats away from them.

5.51pm avoids peeing in the cinema toilets to sot avoid the gaze of fellow female movie goers, who may have assumed I was merely putting on a brave face after being stood up rather than being an independent grown-up consumer of pop culture.

6pm nearly wets self fumbling with keys to get inside secure dwelling.

6.01pm realises that solo expedition resulted in neither being pointed at nor being asked when romantic partner was supposed to arrive nor having kids throw rocks. Deems expedition a success.

I’m not an expert on viewing motion pictures in a public place without a friendship group, but from my experience, it’s not too bad. Sure, it can be a little daunting and you may get a feel looks of pity because you didn’t bring someone with you, but then it’s the same story at family gatherings. I guess it kind of feels like when your butt’s a little sweaty and that dampness makes you second-guess whether or not the lining of your uterus has soaked through several layers of clothing – you think the stain of solitude is immediately identified by everyone within earshot, and everyone is whispering about why someone what deign to step foot outside in such a state. But in reality, it’s all in your head and everyone is too busy looking at their phones.