One of my earliest memories is of doing the big grown up thing of going to the movie theater for the first time.  The entire event has had such a profound impact on my past that I’ve unsuccessfully tried to repress the memory of it from my existence.  If I had a therapist I would tell him, “That shit scarred me for life bro”, and pound my chest mournfully, but since I don’t seek professional help, I mostly handle my emotions by tearfully screaming at the mirror, “I’m a good girl! Tell me I’m pretty mama!” 

It was for my third birthday and my mom surprised me with something she thought my fragile, uncorrupted mind could handle, a day at the movies!  The film was Lady and the Tramp and must have been a re-release since it originally came out in 1955, and much to my dismay I’m not a 57 year old woman with a fierce interest in sock hops and saddle shoes.  I’m actually 28 and don’t spend my weekends ironing poodle skirts and doing the jitterbug to Fats Domino.  All of my facts and information about the 1950’s come from the movies Grease and La Bamba, so I don’t even know if any of that is correct.  Kenickie!  Buddy Holly!

So to paraphrase it was like this:

Mom:  You want to go see the greatest love story ever told, starring dogs?

Me: Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!! (which is three year old speak for, “Yes that sounds quite enjoyable”)

We decided on seeing a 1 p.m. showing since it fit right in between my afternoon nap and the art gala I had to attend later in the evening.  Words cannot explain how excited I was for this entire experience.  Watching a movie in 1986 wasn’t as easy as it is today.  I don’t even think we had a VCR or cable television back then.  The only movie I had seen up to that point was a home video of me singing Old McDonald to my grandpa.  I gave my performance three stars, my pitch was a little off and I fell asleep mid song.  “Two thumbs up!” said my mom.

By the time we get to the theater I’m literally buzzing with excitement.  My mom loads us up with popcorn and candy and I am in (All Dogs to to) Heaven.  We sit down in our seats and I immediately notice we’re the only other people there.  I think we are literally the only people, besides staff, in the entire building.  My entire life of going to the movies and that has probably only ever happened twice.  We are the ONLY people in this giant, cavernous room!  This is scary!  What are all these chairs for?  Am I supposed to watch this movie with ghosts?  Do ghosts like dog love stories?  This place is haunted! 

My mom can tell I’m getting agitated, I think she can smell my fear.  She tries to soothe me: “It’s OK honey, why don’t you eat all that popcorn and shut the hell up?”  Things go from bad to worse when they dim the lights.  The movie is about to start and it’s pitch black and scary in there.  What starts as a typical three year old’s melt down develops into a full blown panic attack.  I have no idea why I was so afraid, unless we were watching Lady and the Tramp in a serial killer’s basement.

Me:  We need to leave right now!

Mom:  No.

Me:  We are going to die!

Mom:  No.

We work out a compromise, she’ll prop open the doors to the theater so some light from the hallway shines in and I won’t talk to her anymore.  She does this and it doesn’t even really make a difference, but for some reason it makes me content.  Satiate my fears, mother!  This works for a few minutes, until a staff member sees the doors open and shuts them.  It’s movie theater protocol!  Movie on, doors shut!  The tears start flowing.  I’m either starting to hyperventilate or developing a case of youth asthma.  My mom frantically runs to open the doors again and explain to the worker my psychological problems.  He completely understands and leaves the doors open. 

Everything is OK for about two minutes until another worker walks by and shuts them.  I scream and shout, “Those doors shall remain open forever!  Pry them off their hinges!”  My mom runs back and explains again why those doors need to stay open and they completely understand.  But this movie theater must have 400 different people working on this godforsaken afternoon because somebody new keeps walking by and shutting them.  I’m not even watching the movie anymore, I couldn’t give a shit about dogs eating spaghetti.  I hope they have gluten allergies and choke on those noodles.  I’m watching those doors because they better stay open.  Because if they shut we will surely die and our souls will be feasted upon by ghosts of movie patrons past. 

This goes on for no less then 15 times, the entire length of the movie.  My poor mother has lost 10 pounds and developed a taste for marathon training.  All she wanted was to do something nice for my birthday and I made her life a living hell with my irrational fears and demands.

I’ve never actually seen Lady and the Tramp in it’s entirety.  I’m not even sure what it’s about, but I think it’s about two detectives, hunting a serial killer who uses the seven deadly sins to justify his crimes.