Skippy and I took in a movie last Saturday night. It had been a while since we had gone out together where we weren't meeting up with anyone else.
There was no occasion tied to our "date", unless you call the generosity of her co-workers an occasion. Skippy works in one of the local public elementary schools here in Lindenhurst where she works as an administrative assistant. The job doesn't pay much and can be pretty thankless at times, but she loves it. And judging by the gratitude she gets from her co-workers, it shows. They gave her a few Visa gift cards and an assortment of other gifts for all her efforts during the last school year. So what does she do? She takes me to the movies. Man, I love this woman!
"Anything you want to see," she asks, hoping I would totally cave and agree to see Sex and The City. I could have gone for The Hulk, but something about seeing a big green behemoth blow shit up didn't appeal to either of us that night. So, we decided on something very adult and cerebral.
We took in The Visitor.
Now it's quite rare to have an independent film make it to a silver screen out at the Stadium 10 Theatre in Farmingdale (Long Island), NY. This place normally shows nothing but blockbuster, action-packed, shoot- stab-and-ask-questions-later thrillers. It must be a slow season in Hollywood because here was this honest-to-goodness art house film in a theatre that didn't require a ride on the LIRR into Manhattan to enjoy. Imagine that. A good movie where nobody dies or takes off their clothes...okay, scratch the take off their clothes part...we like those movies every now and then.
This was fascinating but depressing film about a college professor who unwittingly finds his Manhattan apartment occupied by illegal immigrants from Syria and a Senegal. Rather than toss them out on their asses, he offers to let them stay until they can find a new apartment. Walter Vale's decision would change his life forever.
Our decision to take in this "adult" film? Not so much.
But there we were sitting in a fairly crowded theatre of 70-somethings, wondering what we were in for. How's that for an adult film? We had to be the youngest couple in the house.
We sat way up in the back near the projection room in a dark corner of the theatre. After we settled in, I lifted the arm rest between us so we can sit close together. We shared a huge bottle of water, Milk Duds and Nestle Crunch Bites. When the movie got under way, Skippy leaned in and gave me a kiss on my cheek, resting her head on my shoulder.
Then she starts to chuckle. By the placement of her hand on my thigh, I'm thinking that she's up for some risque, public display of affection.
Skippy: Sorry sweetie. Not here. Why waste the $23.50, when we could have just stayed in the car and done that for free?
Me: So, what's so funny?
Skippy: (Snickering), I feel like we're on a senior assisted living field trip.
Me: You're so childish sometimes.
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