Sunday, September 1, 2013

Dear Movie Theater Ticket Taker

My local movie theater can be underwhelming.  It only has four theaters, where one of them is a glorified big screen television with maybe forty seats.  In those four theaters, there is always at least one children's movie, one mindless action movie, and one lowest common denominator comedy.  The fourth theater is used either for a good movie, or for overflow should there be two of any of the previous type of movie out at the same time.  It is typical for the theater to have gotten only one or two of the movies up for Best Picture Oscar over the year, and I mean since they widened the category to ten pictures.  Most of the time, when the theater refuses to carry a movie I want to see, their sister theater, which is twenty minutes away, will carry it.  That theater has a whopping six theaters, although still with one the size of a living room, but a larger living room at least.  

All of these factors came into play during a rainy day off.  Unable to do yard work, play golf, or jazzercise in the driveway, I made the 20 minute trek to see that only movie of the six that I wanted to see.  This particular movie had some wildly mixed reviews, so I only had some reserved optimism that I would at least enjoy myself.  Still, it was that or clean my kitchen while watching reruns of Supernatural on TNT, and I had overdosed on that my previous day off.  Trying not to think too hard about just what life choices I had screwed up to get me to this particular rut, I got into the car and drove.

I will fully admit, as I approached the ticket booth, I did not think very much of you.  I am being objective in my description here, so please take as little offense as possible.  Your considerable bulk was barely being contained by the stained Stark Industries shirt the theater had issued you three months previously when Iron Man 3 came out.  You were breaking two of my age appropriateness rules by being clearly over 21, yet working at a movie theater and sporting a ponytail.  Worse than all of these was the thin, spotty mustache that looked like it had been adhered to your lip by stale chicken grease and the sheer willpower to prove that you could be a man.  It was like you wanted to be the Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons, or you decided one day that your personal fashion template would be "What if Mario Batali just gave up completely?"  I expected you to be like most ticket vendors, and not make eye conduct, just mumble the price and slide me my ticket with disdain.   You disappointed me in that respect, and only that respect.

See, when I told you the movie I wanted, you looked up, smiled, and said to me "Good choice.  I saw that last week and it was really entertaining."  I was shocked.  There was one movie theater employee I have seen that ever tried to make pleasantries with customers, and she is a teenage girl who just absolutely can't seem to help but be an overwhelming ray of overbearing sunshine.   This is not the look you give out to the world.  It was not a random occurrence, either.  When I was leaving the movie, you were hanging out in front of the snack counter, talking with your coworkers.  The guy behind the counter was talking bad about a kid's movie that was playing, and you hushed him up as a mother with three kids came by.  When they were gone, you told him to lay off, because people were going in to see that movie, and that wasn't cool.

Honestly, I almost have no idea how to deal with a person like you.  You seem to be just a genuinely good person, who really likes what he does.  From what I can see, you want people to enjoy themselves at the movies, because you know that is what they have come there to do.  How can anyone condescend to that, or make fun of you?  Would it matter if they did?  My guess is no, not to you at least. 

Seriously, my hat is off to you.  Keep on doing what you are doing.  You made me look like a dill hole, all because your lack of being a dick just highlights what a jaded ass I can be. 


  1. DAMMIT! I hate when my preconceived notion is proven wrong. He should be condemned just for making the world different than you thought it to be. :-)

    1. I just hate being proven wrong. He could have at least pushed an old lady or something to make me feel better.


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