Roseville Theater

Went to a $2 movie at the Roseville Theater last night. The carpeting reminded me instantly of the roller rink I grew up going to. Everything was old, old, and a sign on the outside said they might close in March. Might? Unless what? The seating was in a bow curve rather than a slope, which I don't understand, but made it seem like the floor had sunk over time. I thought, "we're in the plains with no mountain within hundreds of miles, but we don't have to model our theaters after the landscape, folks."

The ceiling was pock marked with these:

So, the best part was that the clientèle who filed in with and after us were of a very special, specific demographic. I'm not making fun here, I am a social worker after all. Many fit my stereotype of welfare recipients, and additionally there were lots of crumbly old folks. It was just not what you get on a Saturday night in any other $10 per seat theater. Some characters were pure entertainment, for sure.

We tried very earnestly to record the conversation right behind us with a cell phone. The recording didn't turn out well - otherwise I'd post it here. Two men in their 50s-60s sat behind us with one woman the same age, who never said a word. They talked very loudly about guns. I wish I'd kept notes. Here's a sampling from my memory of some words they used: napalm, rifle, machine gun, WWII, Vietnam, ammo, pistol, automatic fill-in-the-blank, aircraft, magazine, cartridge, etc., etc. I said to L., "we should make out right now," and she just about bitch-slapped me for making such a life-threatening joke.

Though we could've been anywhere - New Jersey, 1 hour outside of San Francisco, Houston, Florida, you name it - it sure felt like a Minnesota moment to me.

Old, slow, smelly people, funny accents, gun talk, bad hair, multiple kids diving into one giant popcorn tub, sagging seats. I dunno why, but I thought, "here I am. Minnesota." And so I sank deep into my squeaky, rusted seat for the full experience.