CINDERELLA
Buying coke and popcorn at the theatre is unthinkable with our finances so we smuggle a bag of treats along when we go to the movies. It’s Saturday morning, we’re bored out of our skulls thanks to small town living and decide to see a foreign version of Cinderella.
Cindy looks able to grow a better mustache than I can. The dialogue sounds like it’s been dubbed by Polish exchange students. We console ourselves with popcorn and Pepsi.
B.J. pops a bottle cap and sets the Pepsi on the floor between us. I, clumsy oaf that I am, touch it with my foot. It tips over and the bottle breaks with a pop. Loudly hissing goo runs down the floor toward the front row. From the front row, two by two, row by row, patrons turn around to see who the troublemakers are. When our turn comes we turn around and look at the people behind us. They look surprised and say, “It wasn’t us.” We look skeptical and turn back to the movie.
The movie ends and the lights come up. We look around and the theatre is filled with children; the only adults look like deer caught in headlights. This is really embarrassing so the little woman and I start herding out strange children. “Come on kids,” “Time to go,” “Did you like the movie?” “Don’t for get your hats and coats.” Outside we slip away like footpads into the shadows and try to forget.
It was sometime before the incident came back to us, we were reminded of Cindy during the Olympics. There was an eastern European woman athlete who was a dead ringer for her. I think she won ‘gold’ in small ship throwing.
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