The Riverside 8 movie theater was old, even when I started there in 1997.
It was forever on its last legs and in need of maintenance that never came. Some screens had tears in them, some of the movies had scratches that ran though the entire film.
But even worse, it didn’t have stadium seating.
Instead, the Riverside 8 had ramps. Long, old-fashioned ramps. Which meant that somebody’s head might block a significant amount of the movie that you were watching.
This was something that you just had to put up with before the internet.
It was one of the worst jobs I’ve ever had. It was minimum wage. It was bow ties and vests.
And the hours were terrible. You’d be there until 2 or 3 a.m. on weekends and we were constantly berated by managers who would clock us out early and never fail to remind us what a bad job we were doing.
It was one step up from fast food — maybe a half step.
You started in concessions, which meant you were selling $3 sodas and $3.50 popcorn to people who were always annoyed because it was overpriced.
And you were always thinking, “Yeah dude, I know it sucks. I don’t set these prices. Sneak something in, like everybody else does.”
The customers talked shit constantly, but if you popped off to them, you were fired.
Ditto if you forgot to upsell. If someone ordered a medium drink, you HAD to respond, “Would you like a large for 50 cents more?” If you didn’t say that, and a manager (or one of those secret shoppers) caught you, you were fired.
The customers hated us. One guy banged on the projection window and screamed at me when I didn’t start a movie on time.
Another time, I found a customer sitting on the floor in the back of the theater, all spread out with his popcorn and soda. I told him that he needed to find a seat. He replied, “No I don’t, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
He was right. Minimum wage was not worth getting in a fight over.
Some people walked out of movies they didn’t like and said they wanted a refund. I didn’t know you could do that. We gave them free passes to another show. We were told to never, ever, give them their money back.
Mostly, though, it was sweeping up popcorn. Hours and hours of popcorn. It was everywhere and we were always roaming the entryways with brooms and dustpans. It was the bane of our existence.
Oh and if you burned the popcorn, that was a major no-no. Burned popcorn smells awful and nobody will buy it until the smell dissipates. Which is a big deal because movie theaters run on popcorn sales.
But I still miss it sometimes.
It was the late 90s — the era of Men In Black and Face/Off and Goodwill Hunting and Jackie Brown and Devil’s Advocate and The Wedding Singer and Saving Private Ryan.
And there was Titanic. It was long and every theater afterwards was like cleaning up a garbage can.
Sweep up during enough movies and you got to know the closing credit songs by heart. You developed crushes on actors.
I eventually made projectionist, which was considered the best job in the theater.
I wasn’t great at it. I once had to tell an entire movie theater full of people that they couldn’t watch the end of Dark City because I’d fucked up the projector and all of the film had fallen to the floor. (Ok there were probably only like 10 people there, but still.)
Another time, I wiped off a smudge on the projection glass, and everyone saw my giant hand as a silhouette on the screen and laughed.
The kids I worked with were the best part — we hid in the stock room and ate stolen chips and Rico’s nacho cheese that we pumped into the free water cups. We’d listen to CDs while we cleaned up after closing time.
We’d hide in the back of the theaters for as long as we could and watched bad movies like Seven Years in Tibet or How to Be a Player.
I was a newly minted 21 year old who could buy them alcohol, and they all wanted Boone’s because you could get fucked up on that easier.
They were mostly younger than me. One asked me to her prom but I said I couldn’t go.
Some stole from the register. I understood.
The new movies would come in on Thursdays and the head projectionist would splice together the new prints and after the theater closed, we’d all hang out and drink and smoke and watch new movies, to make sure that all the reels were put together in the proper order. It was glorious.
Sometimes you’d have to clean up until 2 a.m. on a Saturday and they’d call a mandatory staff meeting for 8 a.m. the next day. Anybody who didn’t show up was fired.
The theater was never doing well. We were constantly told that our jobs were in jeopardy, and that it was a privilege to work there. We got to watch movies for free on our off hours, but the managers would constantly take that away, to punish us.
They brought in other employees from nicer theaters to train us because we were the “ghetto” theater.
I left without giving any notice. Blockbuster Video was nearby and they paid a little better.
I miss the people I worked with. I’m friends with some of them on Facebook now and I hope they’re doing ok, especially the kid who got fired for not upselling a soda.
The theater closed down in 2000. I went back a few years ago and it was one of those indoor play areas for kids.
Man I miss the theaters :((