Nov
24
Working at a Movie Theater
Filed Under Culture
Back when I was in sophomore in college, some 10 years ago now(!), I worked at the Newport Cinemas in Spokane, Washington. The building has since been leveled. Unfortunately, the customers and many of my former co-workers weren’t still inside when it got the wrecking ball. The job actually wasn’t all that bad. I have to admit that I felt a pang of sadness when my mom told me the Newport was no more. Call me crazy, but I look back on many of my experiences there fondly, and not just the time I made out with fellow co-worker Michele (with one “L”) after seeing “Entrapment.”
The Newport was actually the second movie theater I worked at. When I was 17, I briefly worked at an ACT III theater in Alderwood, Washington, but I got so few hours, I have virtually no stories to tell about that place. All’s I did was clean auditoriums after showings of “Speed 2: Cruise Control” where I was driven to near madness by the shit-awful island soundtrack that plays over the film’s end credits. Oh, and my manager Tammy had a nervous breakdown shortly after I left. I wish I could take full responsibility for that. I think she had other things going on, though.
Shortly after I turned 19, I put in for a job at the Newport and was hired on the spot. They were understaffed with people who could close, and being over 18, I was the perfect candidate. Most of my co-workers were 16 or 17 and female. Many of them didn’t even like movies. And all of them smoked. So it was like being back in high school again, surrounded by pimply chicks I had nothing in common with.
The Uniforms
We all had to wear these dopey uniforms. The ACT III theater chain had recently been bought out by Regal Cinemas, and gone were the swanky black vests and bowties that I’d worn at the Alderwood 7. Instead we had to wear burgundy vests and black neckties. At the time, I didn’t know how to tie a tie, so I asked a co-worker of mine to do it for me. At the end of a workday, I’d simply loosen it enough to slip it off without untying it. Then I’d slip it back on again and tighten it when I came in for my next shift. I didn’t learn how to tie and tie until the following summer after I’d quit working at the Newport.
Box Office
The worst thing about the job, worse than the chain-smoking bimbos and the brick red vests, were the clientele. It’s no mystery to me why “New Moon” has made so much money. Movie-goers are the stupidest people imaginable. They really do turns their brains off when they catch a flick. I couldn’t believe how many folks would just show up at the theater, not knowing what they wanted to see, and then hold up the line at the box office, asking me to synopsize all our films. It was also pretty amazing that they’d struggle with movie titles that had more than two words in them. Nobody could manage to call “There’s Something About Mary” by its actual title. I got a lot of people who called it “What About Mary” or “How About Mary.”
No, they couldn’t remember the title of a movie, but customers could always recall how much ticket prices used to be. At the time, our matinee price was a staggering $3.75. That was until 6 pm. After 6, a ticket was $7.25, enough to buy the presidency! People bitched and moaned endlessly about our outrageous ticket prices and reminisced about a simpler time when a matinee was a mere $3.25 and you could get a girlfriend experience from a crack whore on Sprague Street for a nickel. Then they’d pay for their ticket with a $100 bill. I hate people sometimes.
Concessions
Tickets in hand, customers would then go buy concessions. On days when we were understaffed, I’d work both the box office and the concession stand, meaning I’d have to deal with some of these retards twice. Working concessions was way worse than box. Regal Cinemas is run by space aliens who have no idea that most customers vehemently despise Pepsi. Twizzlers and all the other candies (Snow Caps?!) were also wildy unpopular. Oh, customers would still reluctantly shell out money for Cookie Dough Bites, but begrudgingly so. It’d give them yet another opportunity to lament our high prices.
Upselling was something we concessionaires were encouraged to do. Man alive, what a pain in the ass that was. Upselling is when I asked the customer, who’s ordering a small- or medium-sized beverage or popcorn, if they’d like a larger sized beverage or popcorn instead for just a few cents more. I basically told them they don’t know what they want. It’s stupid and flies right in the face of the old axiom, “The Customer Is Always Right!” About half the time, customers caved in and went for the larger size, earning Regal another couple quarters. Whoopty-shit.
Usher
Sometimes, I’d get to work the usher podium and teach customers their left from their right. You’d be amazed how many people could screw up the following directions: “Down the hall, first one on the right.” Never mind that the entrance to each auditorium had a sign over the door with the movie’s name on it, too. I guess many of them were looking for the theater showing “How About Mary.”
Cleaning auditoriums was always an interesting archeological expedition. I found empty beer bottles, full diapers and everything in between. One of my managers said he’d found a syringe once. Customers never finished their popcorn or their beverages; I guess they shouldn’t have gotten those larger sizes for a few cents more. The best part about cleaning theaters was when we got to use electric leaf blowers after a big-ticket movie dropped. Blowing around clouds of popcorn and candy wrappers made dozens of small messes into a big one.
Wowie, I’ve done all this place-setting and not even told any stories yet. I’ve got a great one about Thanksgiving ‘98, too. That said, why don’t I lower the curtain on this exposition-heavy installment and post another chapter tomorrow that’s more character-driven?
TO BE CONTINUED…
-Brad Lohan
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3 Responses to “Working at a Movie Theater”
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Write a screenplay about it. “CLERKS” style. I’d pay to see that.
Interesting side note… I once had a movie theater job for five minutes. This was the fastest hire-and-fire I’ve experienced.
The employer hired me on the spot. Few minutes later, she saw my tattoo and said, “You’re fired.”
Brad, nice column. I can’t tell you how much of that rings true for me and my craptacular existence at the Loews Raceway (now AMC) in NY, especially the customers butchering the names of movies (Dr. Suess’ How The Grinch Stole Christmas became The Crunch according to one father just emerging from his space age bomb shelter).
I’d love to hear more stories about your time at the movie theater. Here’s a quick one I have:
We sold out a matinee showing of Space Cowboys, and when all the senior citizens left the theater we went in to clean. Not one kernel was on the floor. No cups, paper bags, or candy boxes. A couple of Werther’s wrappers, but that’s it. We also had a matinee showing of Big Momma’s House which sold under ten tickets. When we went in to clean and popcorn was strewn around the auditorium like someone lit fireworks in the popcorn bag. Our feet were sticking to the spilt soda that oozed throughout. At least we didn’t get a complaint about the A/C being on during the summer from the Big Momma’s House attendees.
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