I’d got to the cinema early to pick up the pre-booked tickets and to hide just how much pick ‘n’ mix I’d be lugging in. The massive foyer was busy and after securing my own body weight in fizzy cola bottles I’d spent 10 minutes in a queue under the false impression that people were collecting their pre-booked tickets. Sadly no one thought it appropriate to inform those behind them that the machine was broken. After finding this out I turned to the queue and told them straight. Only for them to ignore me and try their luck at the same machine – as if I could’ve somehow mucked up inserting a card. Peeved, I joined the normal queue and waited in line.
“I ordered some tickets online but none of your machines seem to be working”
“Yeah they haven’t worked for ages, have you got your card?”
“Do you not think you should put a sign up?”
“The printer in the office isn’t working either”
“It’s just that people are queuing to collect their tickets because there is nothing to indicate the machines aren’t working”
“We put a chair in front of the machines – that means they are not working”
“Ah a chair, of course. Is there one in front of the printer in the office too?”
“Owe kay. Here is my card”
“Where do you want to sit?”
“Erm those 2 seats there please”
“You can’t sit there”
“Those are luxury seats”
“What’s the difference?”
“No, I mean what makes them “luxurious”?”
“They have slightly wider armrests”
“How much wider?”
“I don’t know, a bit”
“You’ve really sold it to me. I’ll pay the difference”
“Any drinks, snacks?”
“2 massive cokes please”
“Is Pepsi alright?”
“Is fake money alright?”
“It’s a joke, I’m sure Pepsi is fine.”
“Just one. Salty please”
And he shuffles off in his “hat of despair” leaving me to ponder the definition of the word luxury. But you can’t have standard now can you, it could ruin the film? A film that has taken years and millions to make, it would be awful to have your elbow slipping off a skinny armrest during say, a chase scene. You might look like a fool. Best to pay another £3.60 to avoid looking foolish. Besides, when you get to go to the cinema as seldom as I do these days you can’t have anything ruin the experience. I look around and take 2 straws, ripping open one of them and realising that they never have a bin for this particular piece of litter. I lay it down on the wet counter.
“There you are. 2 luxury seats. 2 pepsi, one salty popcorn. That’s £26.50”
“Wow. Can I pay that in instalments?”
“It’s a joke”
“Enjoy your film”
“I will. Enjoy your hat”
And despite the queues, despite the heavy closed door to Screen 6 that you can’t open because you have your hands full, despite the criminal expense of junk food, despite the person sitting in front of me having some kind of afro tribute to Abraham Lincoln’s hat (honestly he looked like a black Marge Simpson), despite everyone’s very best efforts to make it impossible – I do enjoy it.
Because I love films.