Today, I made apple-parsnip soup and it was the kind of Sunday that makes me wish that there were more Sundays in the week. It is cold out (38 degrees today) and I am sore as a mother fucker from yesterday's sadistic workout. It's the kind of sore that makes you feel like you did something really good for yourself. So, although I look like Frankenstein when I go up and down stairs and I groan every time I go to sit or get up, it feels good. And, like most Sundays, the best part of the day is the movie I'll usually see in the evening.
I'm going to see Melancholia in a little while with a friend of mine. We love to see movies at this fabulous theater blocks away from me- no subway, no fuss. It's just a short walk down a few blocks from where I live. This theater is so popular that the movie tickets often sell out hours in advance. I've had that happen twice where there are no tickets left for the entire night. I don't like ordering tickets over the computer. It's annoying for several reasons:
1. I like dealing with people, that personal touch is comforting to me. Let's say I lose my ticket, I can go talk to the bartender who sold me my ticket and say, "remember I bought the ticket at 4pm?" Yes, there is a bar at our theater and the bartender is pretty amazing. More on him later.
2. The second reason I don't want to order over the computer is that they charge $1 more. I know that this is not going to break my bank, but think about it: would you take $1 out of your wallet and burn it for no reason at all? No. Probably not. That's what it feels like to buy movie tickets online. If it's sold out, maybe that's the universe saying, " you're not meant to spend you time this way, Laura. Go, fly!" And if I really want to see something, I'll walk there a few hours prior and buy my ticket.
I like going to this particular theater for so many reasons. It is close, clean, cool, they have the best popcorn in the universe, table (or seat) service in the theater, and two bars outside. Working the bar on my lucky nights is Eric*. Eric is a flirt. He is extremely good at it. He makes killer drinks, comps them, and talks to me in between customers, throwing in flirty comments all the while. I feel like a teenager when Eric is working. I don't think I'm capable of having even a halfway intelligent conversation with him because I can't think straight. My heart races and out of my mouth comes ridiculous little things. I try to be cool and have a seat and take it easy and it just doesn't work out very well. After I bought our tickets tonight, I sat down for a second, told him about my work out and then proceeded to talk about brandy. I don't even know. Then I told him I had to go, walked down the stairs, thought I didn't pay, so went back up, told him how I did that the other day at my friend's cafe, and then finally left. Now, I am an intelligent woman. I stand in front of 30-something students a day and haven't felt at a loss for words in years. I am a talker, can hold a conversation about most things (not politics. I hate politics) and the fact that I turn into a giggly, giddy mush around this person is hilarious. Especially because I am 35 and he can't be anything over 26. It's borderline dirty-filthy.
So, in a few minutes, I have to go back to the theater and sit at the bar and pretend that I'm cool while Eric smiles that smile and flirts with me. I know bartenders, I'm no dummy, but I'm so not immune to a cutie. Nuff said.
* Eric is a fictitious name to protect the privacy of the innocent... although he is so not innocent!
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