Movie Time

My love of movies began as a kid in the 1960s, when Dad took us older siblings to movie night at the PV Hall. The first theatre movie I remember seeing was “The Sundowners”, starring Robert Mitchum. As teenagers, we were excited to go to the Columbia Theater in Vermilion, where Clint Eastwood, John Wayne, Walt Disney films, James Bond, and Elvis Presley lit up the silver screen. Who knew I would become a huge Elvis fan!

I loved the cartoons that ran before the feature and the popcorn and candy from the concession. The local dances partially shared the center of social life with the theater, but it was a packed movie house on both Friday and Saturday nights. I was shy and didn’t talk much but “people watching” was fun! There were guys and gals on what appeared to be first dates, gingerly holding hands, and other “old hands” bold as brass stealing a kiss or comfortable flirting. Some of the guys and gals may have been you!

American Graffiti was the movie my future husband took me to on our first date. What a great movie! Checked that box off, he had good taste in movies!

For many years, I rarely went to the movie theatre simply because I lived so far out of town. But whenever I did, I was reminded of just how much I had missed it. Like most people, my taste in movies changed over the years. After working off the farm for many years in a high-stress job in accounting and office management, I had no desire to unwind with more stress on the screen. Horror, murder mysteries, and sad stories were not for me. Instead, I became a fan of comedies and Christmas classics; movies like “Wild Hogs” with Tim Allen, “Almost Heroes” and “Tommy Boy” with Chris Farley, “A Christmas Carol” with Jim Carrey, “It’s a Wonderful Life”, and many others.

One day, I took myself on a very elegant solo date to see the “Downton Abbey Grand Finale”. I was late arriving. I rushed in, bought my ticket, grabbed popcorn and a bottled water, and hurried toward the already-started movie. When I stepped into the theater hallway, the lights were already dimmed, so I decided I would simply slip into the back row and disturb absolutely no one. Very dignified. Very discreet. Very not what happened next! My eyes had not adjusted yet, so I crept along in the dark, one hand on the seat backs, and navigated to the middle of the row. There appeared to be only one other person in the entire theater, sitting way up near the front, so at least my audience was limited. I found a seat and performed the classic movie-theater manoeuvre; push the folded seat down with one hand and sit quickly before it snaps back up like a mousetrap. In the process, I leaned forward and dumped my popcorn all over the floor. Not a little spill. A full golden avalanche. Thankfully, my water bottle was tightly sealed, because apparently even chaos has standards. “Oh no,” I thought, and marched back out to the concession stand to ask for a broom and dustpan. The kind fellow behind the counter would not hear of it. Instead, he handed me another popcorn and sent me back in, probably assuming I could be trusted with the second one. This time, however, my eyes had adjusted perfectly. And that is when I saw a trail of popcorn stretching from my seat all the way out toward the concession stand. Apparently, when I got up to get help, I must have had popcorn clinging to me like a lint roller. As I walked out, it had silently “rained” off my clothes all the way down the hall.

Well, that was super funny, the show was fantastic, I could have been spared the calamity, but I left with a grin and a prayer that the guy never remembers me! I’m sure there are more funny stories out there and I’d love to hear yours! Please tell me I am not the only one who has ever turned an evening at the movies into a major mishap.