Upon the Exit

After exiting the movie theater and entering the butter filled atmosphere of the lobby, I notice a cardboard cutout of Brad Pitt’s robust muscular build: his abs were no more authentic than the nutritional value of a Twinkie. Walking around the room I notice the well-lit snack bar with the word “Refreshments” lit up with neon lights above a case with a wide range of confectionery. As I walk closer to the snack-bar I smell the popcorn, nachos, and hot dogs; all in a container heated by an electric source. As I watch the crisp brown corndogs rotate around the glass box, as I watch the clock strike 6:50, as I throw away the empty popcorn bag, I think back to when I first walked through the magnificent doors to watch Man on a Ledge: the clock revealed the time to be 4:55.

It was 4:50 as I walk down the side walk towards the muddy Petaluma River before I noticed a significant building for the people of Petaluma. It is a building that had a rainbow of colors put into one design over a pair of crystal clear doors: the Petaluma Boulevard Cinemas. It is a building facing the Petaluma Theater District with shops around a beautiful water fountain. I soon take notice of an automated ticket kiosk open 24 hours a day. As I wait in line for my turn I hear the murmur of people- babies and mothers, teenagers and friends, adults and coworkers- who are doing the same thing as I am: exiting their busy lives for a while to go watch a movie. The theaters are a divine place where people go to pay their respects to the eminence of Hollywood movies; people come dressed in many different ways: with jeans, with sweats, with yoga pants, with sneakers, with flip-flops. The machine takes credit cards, so I put one in and get a marvelous ticket.

Once inside my feet touch the red waters that cover the entire floor of the theater lobby: a field of open space and freedom in which one can roam about and converse before the movie starts. To the left there is the snack bar and to the right are the game arcade and the bathrooms. The man at the door steals my ticket as he points me in the direction of the movie room; a kind of salute to the pious theater.

The lobby is a chaotic heaven. One can take popcorn out of the theater, but no one can take the theater out of popcorn; popcorn will always have a movie to go with it. Popcorn that was once hot now lay in cold lumps of butter on the ground. Janitors break their backs trying to straighten out the place. Fruits turn to smoothies which turn to spills as teenagers stampede each other to get a good seat in the theater. Teenagers have a pious zeal to catch a movie, yet they have an impertinent attitude towards each other. These whirlwinds of emotions caused by the gentle nature of humans create a hallowed party in the secular cathedral.

Strolling, munching, drinking- I head towards theater number ten. In the hall I notice more stand ups of future features; a foretaste of the new cake coming out next July. I pull the door to the theater open and walk through a gloomy hallway to an auditorium of stadium style seats facing a giant screen. I feel my feet grip well to the sticky floor as I stumble to my seat. I take a sip of my watered down soda before I set it down in the plastic holder. The cup won’t stay put as the holder is too big, so I set it on the ground where countless sodas had been before; the sticky squeak of my shoes proves my point. Then I sit and relax for a while. The air is full of the sound of cellphones- some on vibrate, some on loud, some on quite- as people turn them off and disconnect themselves from the world. The lights dim down and the screen explodes with light and the speakers blast surreal and surround sound. I escape from my stressful life for a while in my luxury rocking chair.

Behind me a man's sneeze encodes for his discontent with the uncomfortably low temperature of the room. The theater-sized refrigerator calms me. My mind is taken away from the mischievous world and put inside the film; I am part of the movie. This noble moment is interrupted by the thumping of seats being closed as people with full bladders get up to relieve themselves. Light comes flooding in through the open door.

After the movie I stumble down the stairs after 2 hours of relaxation and enjoyment. I look around and regain consciousness of where I am while my eyes fall upon the exit sign with a miniature movie real on top. I walk out into the antechamber. A brilliant flash of light hits my eyes and I’m blinded for a second as my eyes adjust to the light of the outside world. I chat a bit with my friends and the clock strikes 6:50.
-- Danny D