That ten to fifteen minutes before the movie starts on opening night.
Seriously, it’s a jumpy whisper-fest in red plushy tundra as everyone runs in, jockeys for prime seats, and elbows for armrests. Saving seats gets stressful and without rules there is Seat-Saving Anarchy, with jackets lying everywhere, tense questions, and evil eyes. Commercials start booming in the background as toothpick teens amble past bony knees holding giant slippery Cokes and spilly bags of popcorn. Tall guys sit in front of you as cell phones ring and friends debate moving while constant streams of people pour in and quickly fill the place up.
It can be very stressful.
And it can be great when the lights finally dim and turn it all off.
Yes, that’s when everyone stops, everyone shushes, and all worries fade way back to the background. Suddenly nothing matters when the trumpets blare, previews roll, and lights flick to black. It’s like a big heavy wooden door slowly creaks open and welcomes you down a dark path to somewhere you’ve never been.
Slip away from your worries, slip away from the world, and slip and slide right into the