Teenage superpowers

So a couple of weeks ago I went to see the new Harry Potter film.

If I am entirely honest with you, which is important because I like to maintain a base line of respect and, well, dignity, round here, I went to see it on the first day it was out. I am so dignified.

It was 4pm. The cinema was full of yoof. Girl-flavoured yoof. Some of them were dressed in little outfits. One boy, who was surrounded by girls, all of whom seemed to be messing with him in a sort of acceptable touching type way, was wearing what looked an awful lot like a dressing gown, but I suspect was in fact a robe.

"Oh god," said hub as he met me. It is not so much the yoof that he finds stressful, as the squeaky noises they make.

We sat in the cinema. A billion adverts passed. The chattering around us was punctuated only by squeals and text message alerts.

I like the yoof. I find them endlessly fascinating and also ever so amusing. I love their unself-conscious and self-conscious ways. And on this day they made me grin with glee.

We were into the trailers. There was one for a film with chipmunks. And then there was one which was on for barely a second before the whole of the teenage-girl-type masses around us erupted in a glorious mixture of squeals and screams and sighs and cheers and clapping.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" asked and increasingly out-of-his-depth hub.

OBVIOUSLY what was going on was the trailer for the new Twilight film.

It was ace. Them girls was ace. But how the buggery bollocks did they know? It is like a special tuning-in to handsome earnest looking heart-throbs superpower.

I liked it a lot.