Hi.
Coffee: Maxwell House Drip, Office Coffee
We went to see a movie at the Alamo Drafthouse. It’s one of those theaters that serves food with the movie and has a full bar. It was in an out of the way strip mall in Raleigh. They had big bay doors in front that were open like a welcome summer. It reminded me of some time when people used to go to movies, when getting out of the house was an event, and when the act of being out somewhere was a part of the joy, not just the transmission of light and sound coming out of the screen.
So much of life is your environment. You pick people and activities to fill your daily spaces but it’s the spaces themselves you’re most intimate with. Tomorrow you might lose your job. Wednesday that woman you were dating will move away. All the things you involve yourself with change by the months or hours, but that same bleak road that snakes out of your subdivision hasn’t changed.
I spent fifteen dollars on a drink. It was bourbon and sours, it was okay. From the glass rim, I watched waiters taking orders before the movie’s start and people scuttling to get to their seats. I saw the plush red backs of well-worn chairs, popcorn stomped into the carpet, and plastic lights on the walls that had ambitions to be chandeliers. This was a space where events took place, not just the day to day. Reverent like Christian Sunday; eager like couch conversations at a crowded party.
Currently Reading: Kitchen Confidential, Anthony Bourdain
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Give them pleasure. The same pleasure they have when they wake up from a nightmare.
Alfred Hitchcock
