“It looks like a zoo in here,” my friend remarked about the movie theater full of seat-crawling, yelling and purposefully loud teenagers in the audience.

“Yeah, except a zoo smells a little better,” I replied scathingly.

When I went to see the movie “Prom Night,” all I wanted was some mindless entertainment. What I ended up with was a headache brought on by the youth of Lawrence.

I was probably asking for it considering the movie was “Prom Night,” but I didn’t think wanting to see a cheap thrill was going to result in an hour-and-a-half of temple rubbing and checking my watch.

Movie theaters are not doing enough to correct the problem of disruptive teenagers.

One passive solution is warning patrons of the movie who looked as if they were mature enough (I was sporting a beard that night, so I concluded that the amount of facial hair men have equals their maturity level) that the movie was already full of teenagers. If I had any problems or complaints, I could have reported them. I was caught off guard, and actually pleased for a moment, that the theater had confronted the problem and was actively seeking feedback.

My pleasure quickly subsided, though, when I realized that I could miss a crucial plot twist to the movie by having to leave the theater to report any problems.

I paid $7.50 to see a movie, not to babysit. Any problems that the theater employees have foreseen should be resolved by the time I nestle in my seat.

A large chunk of attendees to “Prom Night” would not have made it past the maturity pre-screening process, though, so other courses of action were employed.

One apparent resolution was in the form of a well-built security guard armed with a nightstick. He threatened the audience by saying if he saw one glow from a cell phone or heard one whisper, he would not hesitate to force people to leave. Even I reached into my pocket and switched my phone from vibrate mode to silent.

This tactic worked until a little blood showed up on the screen, and the audience consciously shrilled, which was followed by subsequent laughter.

Then the high-pitched whispers began, and the guard had to once again interrupt the movie to instill fear back into the audience.

An employee of the theater said that once the guard had to carry a teenager over his shoulder and out the theater after she refused to stop texting and talking. She said the audience gave a low-key applause when she was removed.

“It was like ‘Scary Movie.’ You know, without the dying part,” the employee said.

I looked around the theater and was thankful that I dodged growing up in this generation that was having a hard time growing up themselves.

I have been immature, but I cannot recall being disruptive to the point of aggravating a theater full of people. The action the movie theater has taken is only a temporary solution, and I realize that the theaters have to make money. Teenagers will grow up eventually (perhaps not soon enough), but not until the theaters stop accommodating them.

I, though, will not be frequenting the theater as I used to. I know I’m only a number to them and a gaggle of giggling teenagers far outweighs one disgruntled college student.

But for those fun, mindless popcorn flicks, I’ll be staying home and making some Jiffy Pop.

Hirschfeld is an Augusta junior in journalism.