Since I started working at the cinema I’ve begun to mark time differently. The films currently showing act as dropped pins, temporal markers. significant life events correlate with significant film releases:
Stopped seeing Nico: ‘the Martian’,
Jen came to stay: ‘Brooklyn’,
Applied to the civil service: ‘Suffragette’,
When I had a gushy hopeful feeling about Jonathan: ‘Carol.’
My parallel existence is this tracking device unreality of entertainment. As the cinema draws in the crowds for the dark winter, and the big screen thrives with spectacle and glamour for Oscar season; events in my day to day reality pitter away.
Maybe it’s time to move on. Gotta make a film poster for myself: advertise my good bits, my intriguing bits…. where are my sensible bits? Spinning off CVs for ‘bigger things’ I’m not sure that I want to do. Because what will they say about me when my credits roll? Cinema is an escapism, but sometimes when I’m working here I feel a little bit suffocated under a pile of other people’s popcorn.
Popcorn Professionals 