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I worked at a movie theater this summer, seeing as I needed a job of some kind, and didn't really think about applying for anything more complicated because money is not my biggest concern at this point.
I was washing my dress pants a few days ago, and found a few pieces of paper that I had written on during a particularly boring shift at the door.
It's interesting to reflect on the state of mind you had when you did something, and right now I'm thinking the state of mind at the time was somewhere between annoying self-pity and clawing my own eyes out.
Rules for customers patronizing Century Theatres
1) You know those scoops in the candy bins, attached on little cords? The neatniks among you may be compelled to put the scoops back in their places when you are finished, but please resist the tempation. The people working at the concession stand will be managerially brutalized if they are not doing anything, so there's nothing the staff appreciates more than you leaving them simple, unimportant busywork like putting the scoops back in the candy bins during dull moments. The exception to this is if they would be touching the floor. People three times my age should not be so completely devoid of respect for the public hygeine.
2) The man at the door lives in a perpetual void of dreariness and pain. He does not care that you have to go to the bathroom. I can't stress this enough, people: the most tragic thing you can do to a doorman is rip him away from those fantasies of banging the various actresses whos' posters line the walls to enter your trite, self-centered universe of concern over whether you will need a ticket to re-enter after you go to the bathroom.
3) Please do not eat the jalepenos. When last I checked, there was an infestation of small, flying insects in the jalepeno bin. I think it's part of Century's plan to phase out all customers by 2020. That and the kettle korn.
4) Speaking of the man at the door, please do not stand in front of him uttering a continuous stream of obscenities about how you can't find your ticket until the manager overhears you and descends like a shrill, thickly-accented latina harpy of vengeance upon the doorman. No, I'm not racist, I just wish I understood what was being said to me when I am chewed out because of a colorfully verbose old man with a hole in his pocket.
5) The doorman, more than likely, has not seen your movie. He is too low-level to see a pre-screening, which means he will probably have to wait two weeks after opening night to get those coveted free tickets. If you want doormen to give you free reviews, then you better start paying them like Ebert and Roeper get payed for their BS. Hint: it's not $8.50 an hour.
6) Do not order the kettle korn. SWEET BABY JESUS, DO NOT ORDER THE KETTLE KORN.
7) Please ask yourself, does the doorman look like he can speak Spanish? If he was bilingual in a language that was actually useful, would he be taking a job here?
8) Walls are not for peeing on, despite what you may have been taught by your simian parents. We have utilities for that. Heck, you don't even have to pay for water, the toilets are free. Be my guest.
9) I am a human lie detector. Additionally, my heart has been hardened into a blackened shell of inhuman contempt by this job. My blood runs thick with cyncicism, and there is absolutely no way in hell you are getting in with a child's ticket (under 12) if you have facial hair (boys) or are frontally developed (girls). The fact that I am wearing a bowtie and the most garishly colored vest ever to come out of the sweatshops of Indonesia does not make me an idiot.
10) I hate all life. That wasn't really a suggestion, but it's a good idea to keep it in mind when speaking with the doorman, especially if that doorman is me.
11) The doorman often wears a button with his name on it. He does not want you to call him that. You do not know the doorman, so step the **** off and stop acting all chummy with him. Please refer to the aforementioned sin of disturbing him uneccessarily from his daydreams that keep him from the brink of insanity.
12) No, I will not go out with you, fellow employee or random high school acquaintance. Please read rule #10 again.
13) Yes, a 20 oz. bottle of water is $3.75. Yes, I know that's a lot of money. Yes, I'm aware that you are upset. To be honest, the very fact that you are buying water at a movie theater when there is a drinking fountain not 20 feet away does not reflect highly on your cognitive abilities.
14) DO NOT call the concession stand with a bomb threat. That makes me have to tell the managers about it, and then everyone has to evacuate the theater, and I get to refund about 100 irate customers who were pulled out of their seats 10 minutes before the end of "Pirates of the Carribbean."
15) On a related note, do not call the concession stand again with the same bomb threat, especially when it is still my shift. I was removed from concessions duty shortly after; apparently I'm the lucky employee as bomb threats go, and it's bad karma to have me near the telephone.
**************************************
Anyone else have anything to relate about movie theatre experiences? I could really use a good story.
I was washing my dress pants a few days ago, and found a few pieces of paper that I had written on during a particularly boring shift at the door.
It's interesting to reflect on the state of mind you had when you did something, and right now I'm thinking the state of mind at the time was somewhere between annoying self-pity and clawing my own eyes out.
Rules for customers patronizing Century Theatres
1) You know those scoops in the candy bins, attached on little cords? The neatniks among you may be compelled to put the scoops back in their places when you are finished, but please resist the tempation. The people working at the concession stand will be managerially brutalized if they are not doing anything, so there's nothing the staff appreciates more than you leaving them simple, unimportant busywork like putting the scoops back in the candy bins during dull moments. The exception to this is if they would be touching the floor. People three times my age should not be so completely devoid of respect for the public hygeine.
2) The man at the door lives in a perpetual void of dreariness and pain. He does not care that you have to go to the bathroom. I can't stress this enough, people: the most tragic thing you can do to a doorman is rip him away from those fantasies of banging the various actresses whos' posters line the walls to enter your trite, self-centered universe of concern over whether you will need a ticket to re-enter after you go to the bathroom.
3) Please do not eat the jalepenos. When last I checked, there was an infestation of small, flying insects in the jalepeno bin. I think it's part of Century's plan to phase out all customers by 2020. That and the kettle korn.
4) Speaking of the man at the door, please do not stand in front of him uttering a continuous stream of obscenities about how you can't find your ticket until the manager overhears you and descends like a shrill, thickly-accented latina harpy of vengeance upon the doorman. No, I'm not racist, I just wish I understood what was being said to me when I am chewed out because of a colorfully verbose old man with a hole in his pocket.
5) The doorman, more than likely, has not seen your movie. He is too low-level to see a pre-screening, which means he will probably have to wait two weeks after opening night to get those coveted free tickets. If you want doormen to give you free reviews, then you better start paying them like Ebert and Roeper get payed for their BS. Hint: it's not $8.50 an hour.
6) Do not order the kettle korn. SWEET BABY JESUS, DO NOT ORDER THE KETTLE KORN.
7) Please ask yourself, does the doorman look like he can speak Spanish? If he was bilingual in a language that was actually useful, would he be taking a job here?
8) Walls are not for peeing on, despite what you may have been taught by your simian parents. We have utilities for that. Heck, you don't even have to pay for water, the toilets are free. Be my guest.
9) I am a human lie detector. Additionally, my heart has been hardened into a blackened shell of inhuman contempt by this job. My blood runs thick with cyncicism, and there is absolutely no way in hell you are getting in with a child's ticket (under 12) if you have facial hair (boys) or are frontally developed (girls). The fact that I am wearing a bowtie and the most garishly colored vest ever to come out of the sweatshops of Indonesia does not make me an idiot.
10) I hate all life. That wasn't really a suggestion, but it's a good idea to keep it in mind when speaking with the doorman, especially if that doorman is me.
11) The doorman often wears a button with his name on it. He does not want you to call him that. You do not know the doorman, so step the **** off and stop acting all chummy with him. Please refer to the aforementioned sin of disturbing him uneccessarily from his daydreams that keep him from the brink of insanity.
12) No, I will not go out with you, fellow employee or random high school acquaintance. Please read rule #10 again.
13) Yes, a 20 oz. bottle of water is $3.75. Yes, I know that's a lot of money. Yes, I'm aware that you are upset. To be honest, the very fact that you are buying water at a movie theater when there is a drinking fountain not 20 feet away does not reflect highly on your cognitive abilities.
14) DO NOT call the concession stand with a bomb threat. That makes me have to tell the managers about it, and then everyone has to evacuate the theater, and I get to refund about 100 irate customers who were pulled out of their seats 10 minutes before the end of "Pirates of the Carribbean."
15) On a related note, do not call the concession stand again with the same bomb threat, especially when it is still my shift. I was removed from concessions duty shortly after; apparently I'm the lucky employee as bomb threats go, and it's bad karma to have me near the telephone.
**************************************
Anyone else have anything to relate about movie theatre experiences? I could really use a good story.
. I'm a messy eater. 
. I'm still pissed about that. 
. You are supposed to leave that seat in between you vacant. What did seinfeld call that seat? I can't remember.
(Yes this actually happened.)
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