Enjoy Your Show

In the lobby of the Royal Cinemas, a fifteen-year-old boy named Stuart Rowantree studied his reflection in the candy case glass. He made sure his hair was parted just right. Standing up straight, he breathed heavily into the palm of his hand to check the toxic qualities of his breath. There didn't seem to be any rancid odor. In fact, his breath seemed to smell a lot like his hand.

The young man was dressed like a mortician. He wore a dark jacket that was just a little too long in the sleeves, and black slacks that were a little too baggy. Stuart's mother had purchased the outfit a few months ago for Great Aunt Margaret's memorial service. When picking the suit out, his Mom had made sure to get a larger size as there were a still some old family members hanging around, and why buy a new outfit for every funeral?

It was the afternoon and business was slow; no customers could be found. The only living souls Stuart had seen was a cashier out in the box office and the employee behind the concessions counter, busy studying some clipboard.

Finally, the employee, whose nametag introduced himself as Brian, looked up from his paperwork and noticed Stuart. "Oh..." he said. "You're here for an interview?" Brian's hair was so blond it was almost white and his glasses were as thick as his stocky cheeks.

Interview, interview, Stuart thought. Stay in focus. He stopped wondering how Brian hid his neck so well and answered the employee. "Yes. I'm supposed to see Miss Mull."

"Okay... there's no one in the lobby...?" Brian's words formed a statement, yet at the end of each sentence his timid voice trailed up into a higher pitch as if asking a question. "So... I'll have to stay here...? To watch the lobby....? But I'll let you up stairs so you can just go see her in her office... Okay...?"

"Great." Stuart said. He could feel his palms moisten with sweat. His insides tingled with nervous anticipation. This interview meant everything to him. According to his parents, he absolutely had to get a job this summer. They decided it was vital that Stuart finally learn the ways of the adult world. Out of all of the minimum wage prisons, the movie theater seemed like the best choice. But if he didn't get accepted he would be forced to apply at the local fast food chains and grocery stores. To Stu, the idea of flipping meat or bagging produce all summer seemed horrific. On the other hand, tearing tickets, selling candy, he could handle those chores for a few months. It wasn't as though he'd be stuck there forever.

Brian led him to a bright red metal door, which he unlocked with his heavy set of keys. He opened it up and nodded for Stuart to enter. The young man peered up the dark staircase. At the top, he could see a large projection machine, full of knobs and switches, wheels and a mess of inner workings. Snaking through the device was the film thread, weaving its way into the guts of the machine, headed for the lens and the bright lightbulb inside.

"It's just upstairs and to the left, okay?" Brian said. "Oh... and don't be surprised, but Mrs. Mull is white... not Hispanic... and whatever you do, don't stare at her mouth, she hates that, you know?"

"Thanks for the advice," Stu replied and walked through the doorway.

"Oh," Brain called, "If you see a big guy in cowboy boots, that's just Ed the Projectionist; he's a little strange, but who isn't?"

* * *

Ed the Projectionist and Miss Mull sat on the office desk, kissing passionately. They stopped for a moment to catch their breath.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," she sighed.

"Me too," he replied. "I've always thought you were pretty."

"Really?" Miss Mull said. "What's the prettiest part about me? My eyes?"

"No," he grunted with a chuckle.

"What is?"

"Your tooth."

"My tooth?" She laughed in a high, shocking voice.

"That's right," he told her. "The one right in front. I like that big silver crown you got set there, right between the gum and that pretty white tooth."

"I hate that tooth!" She was amazed with the old man. "Why do you like it?"

"I just like the way it twinkles when you smile."

"That's so sweet," she giggled. "How about another smooch?"

The intercom interrupted them. The upside down phone began to speak. "Hi... this is Brian...?" As always, toward the end of each sentence Brian's voice nervously rose up, making him sound either scared, confused or both.

"What is it?" She asked and slapped Ed's hand at the same time. The jiggling was becoming extreme. Her nipple was sliding around like a pink thimble on a sea of jello.

"This is Brian?"

"Listen, Brian," she told him, "I'm involved with a project right now."

Ed wasn't paying much attention to the phone call. He was too busy unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it into the corner.

"There's a kid here....? His name's Stuart...? He's scheduled for an interview...?"

"Just have him wait by the doorman's stand. I'll be about ten minutes." Brian just mumbled a bit so she added: "Is there anything else, Brian?"

Brian explained, "You see, that Stuart kid... I sent him... upstairs...?"

Just then, the office door swung open.

Miss Mull, not wanting to be seen with a half-naked projectionist, quickly hid behind her desk, silver tooth and all.

* * *

"Uh, hello." Stuart stood in front of a tall, flabby man with no shirt on. His hair and mustache were salt'n'pepper and he appeared to be a man in his mid fifties. The projectionist looked surprised, and mad about being surprised.

Stu averted his eyes from the glare. Then, instead of the dark projectionist pupils, he was now staring at the dark hole of a deep belly button. Quickly grossed out by this sight, Stuart's eyes darted to the floor, until he was gawking at a pair of cowboy boots.

"You must be Ed," the kid muttered.

"What do you want?"

"I'm applying for a job."

"Oh," he said and looked back at the vacant desk. "I guess you're at the right place."

Stuart saw the blue pile of clothes lying on the office carpet. He wondered how the projectionist took off his suspenders with his boots still on. And why?

Ed glanced again to the vacant desk. "Do you want him to go back down stairs?" He acted like he was talking to someone, but no one was there. The fifteen year old decided that the Royal Cinema's half naked projectionist was clearly insane.

Ed kept talking to the empty room. "You want him to come in?"

Stuart's mind was full of questions he didn't dare ask. Who did he think he was talking to? The chair? Were they a couple? Was he interrupting a romance between the projectionist and his lovely office furniture? Were the starting times of all the movies actually in the hands of this mad man?

"You want him to come in?" His gruff voice asked. From behind the desk, Alice just closed her eyes and wished for the situation to go away.

"Maybe I should wait downstairs," Stuart offered. "I'm supposed to meet with, uh, Miss Mull."

"Okay then...bye." He nodded and slammed the door.

The situation taken care of, Ed chuckled, pulled on his underwear straps and let them snap back against his belly. "Now," he said, "Back to some kissin'"

Alice Mull stood up and glared at him. "Are you crazy?"

Ed shrugged. "Don't let him spoil the mood. The kid's back down stairs."

She rushed to dress herself. "Put your shirt back on! I have to go down there and pretend that I had nothing to do with this."

The rest of her clothes were thrown on and she rushed out the door, leaving Ed to put his railroad suspenders back on.

* * *

"Hi, I'm Miss Mull," she said. "Sorry to keep you waiting." The manager waltzed across the lobby and shook hands with Stuart. "I was just upstairs checking screen number seven."

"Um..." the teen-ager mumbled, "...upstairs in your office, I saw this guy..."

"That was probably Ed, our projectionist," she replied. "Sometimes he uses our office to change."

"Oh..." Stuart nodded, and put his thoughts to rest about the subject. The manager looked over his application, led him to the lobby desk, and the interview began.

At first, Mull believed she would go through the motions and send the boy home jobless. Rejecting Stuart's application would allow her to forget her moment of embarrassment, but as it turned out, the young man like a promising employee, and there was really no reason to turn him away.

He maintained a friendly disposition throughout the interview. He wasn't ugly, so Mull wouldn't feel queasy just by looking at him, yet he was by no means a handsome young man, which meant that the female employees wouldn't become transfixed by his appearance and become sloppy in their work. Stuart was plain. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and his skin was neither tan nor pale. For his age he seemed on the slender size, about the size of high school nerds who avoid P.E. and get picked on by metal shop students and football running backs.

During the interview he fiddled with his hands, tapped his feet, and nervously shook his knees in their oversized slacks; all were signs indicating his anxiousness to join their work force. Best of all, he verbally performed well, answering each of the questions-"What do you plan to do after high school?" "Have you handled money before?" "Can you work nights?" --simply and effectively. He had an almost desperate eagerness to be as polite as possible and Miss Mull guessed that Stuart would be the sort of employee that would do whatever he was told.

For only a moment, Stuart's mind seemed to drift during the interview. His eyes wandered across the lobby to a female employee gracefully entering the concessions area. Her neck was long and slender. Her hair resembled the color of golden wheat and was woven into a wholesome braid reminiscent of medieval maidens. And like a princess in disguise, her crass lavender and pink uniform let her appear all the more endearing. Stuart thought she looked beautiful.

Stuart squinted in an attempt to read her name tag. It started with a "V." He squinted some more. "Vicky."

He returned his attention to Miss Mull's lecture about "what do you want out of your career, what goals do you have in your life," but from the corner of his eye Stuart watched Vicky as she worked the popcorn machine, scooping kernels and feeding them into the steamy, hungry silver kettle. She pressed a red button, first just once, slowly, and then many times, quickly, impatiently. After pressing the button, a motor revved up from inside the popper, as if purring to Vicky's touch. Seasoning oil poured forth from a small tube, sizzling as it touched the heat of the kettle. Vicky watched the seasoning juice and popcorn seeds swirl together. Steam rose from the machine, causing moisture to cling to the smooth skin of Vicky's arm as she reached over to grasp the knob and closed the popper lid.

Stuart blinked, trying to pay attention to the manager and wondering why he felt so stirred up by watching an employee at work.

"Well?" Mrs. Mull said.

Stuart realized she had asked one more question, but he had been too distracted by the Lady-of-the-Popper to comprehend the words. "I'm sorry," he said. "What was that?"

She repeated herself. "If hired... what do you hope to take away from the Royal Cinemas?"

He paused for only a second, glancing once more behind the concession stand and replied, "Experience."