Date Night - Popcorn not included

Written by Jen Wednesday, 01 October 2008 01:29

Blog

Date night at the movies is so rare for us that I felt like a foreigner in a strange land. The absence of our usual Friday night shuttling shuffle felt odd, like leaving the house without my purse. Yet there we were with three hours to ourselves and no kids to taxi, checking out movie times and choosing the most inoffensive film Hollywood has to offer-with real people rather than computer-animated ones.

In the early days of our relationship, we'd wing it. We'd go out for a bite, meet some friends and then decide where to go and what to see. It was always the late show. Splurging for a movie meant shelling out $12 just for two tickets.

Wow! What a difference 23 years makes! This evening we were tight on time as usual so we split a sandwich and a soda at a fast-food restaurant, then bolted toward the mammoth movie complex across the street. I complimented my husband on his choice of fine dining establishments and the fact that he is blessed with a really low-maintenance wife.

As we stood before the ticket counter staring at a screen full of dollar amounts in red, M- blurted out, "How long before we get senior-citizen prices?"

"Did you ever think we'd actually be looking forward to that?" I said. Yes, we have reached this point.

But we handed over the cash and moved on. In fact, because such an outing is an anomaly to this couple, we decided to go all-out and get a "regular"-size bag of very stale popcorn. That's $6.50.

"Would you like butter?" said the girl behind the counter in her best I-am-so-bored-and-hate-this-job voice. She really meant processed butter-food, the kind that doesn't require refrigeration.

"Oh, sure," I said. We're livin' on the wild side now.

"Would you like it layered?"

Uh...huh? I stared blankly. "Excuse me?"

Sigh. "Lay-ered," she said slowly.

"Yes, that's fine," quips my husband. "That means throughout the bag rather than just dumped on the top," he explains in a whisper.

"Sure. Well, sure. I knew that," I said with a snort, wondering when he became so worldly.

And we moved on through the multiplex and down the mile-long hall toward Theater #58 on the left. Along the way, we passed a cart of plastic blue booster seats.

"Hey, they have booster seats in theaters now," says my husband excitedly. "What a great idea!"

Oh my goodness. We are so out of touch. What other revelations await us?

We followed the runway lights (when did they add those?) and located two empty seats behind a nice elderly couple. She clutched her handbag on her lap. "Poor thing," I thought. This experience is unsettling for me. She must be terrified.

Settling in for a night of mindless entertainment, I was jolted out of my seat by the Dolby stereo image, a close-up of a train and a loud roar.

"Hey! This isn't Polar Express, is it?" I said. Perhaps that was the last film we saw in a theater, with our children, of course. After the lengthy and mightily disturbing previews our ears adjusted to the deafening sound and we enjoyed a comedy which was really pretty funny.

And then it was time to drive home. Holding hands, we filed out behind the elderly couple and noted the hordes of teens in tattered jeans waiting for the next show. It was 9:30 p.m. Perfect timing.