Different
iterations of Moiya, Janet, Bonnie, Kelvin and I went off to see the movies
over the Christmas holidays at the Salamar Classic in Salmon Arm. The theatre is old style – like the
Plaza. Yes, the Salama roof may leak, but that is only a
problem when it is thawing outside. The
price is right. $5 for a matinee. The popcorn is large and the pop even
bigger. I know that when half a cup of
milk spills on a table, it seems like a quart has spilled, it spreads so
far. So you can imagine what happened
when I brushed by Janet’s litre of soda
and it went pouring all over the floor. Driven by gravity. Flooding the floor in front of us and down
who knows how far. The theatre gave
Janet a refill, but they didn’t do a mop up, so the people in front of us had the
added pleasure of sticky to the floor when they tried to move all night.
If that wasn’t
enough, Moiya was taking off her rings and one of them fell to the floor. I dropped as well, running my hands wherever
I could, remembering that the last time she dropped a ring she didn’t find
it. I found the ring. But when I went down, I hadn’t thought of how
hard it would be to get up between the narrow rows of seats and the backs of
the seats in front of me. A nice
challenge like that before settling into a good movie never hurts.
I was blown away by
a couple dressed as Russians in the lobby.
Just regular theatre patrons. She
had on a fur scarf, a ballroom gown with lovely flounces, long gloves that went above the elbows and rings over the fingers of the
gloves. He was dressed as a Cossack Army
Office. Now that was the fun of being at
a small local theatre.
And it goes without saying ... we all enjoyed the show. The book would have taken hours, maybe days to read. The movie gave us a nice taste of what would be coming should we bury ourselves in that project.
Arta
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