The Palladium Theatre glowed in the middle of the block. All the other store fronts had been closed with metal grates pulled down, but the theatre's lights twinkled in the drizzle. "It Happened One Night" was the only movie playing, with shows at 3:00, 7:00 and 10:00. A handwritten sign was taped to the inside of the ticket booth instructing patrons that tickets could be purchased inside. Reed hadn't planned on seeing a movie, but he'd been walking so long, he felt fully saturated with water and felt maybe a chance to get inside and dry off wouldn't be amiss.

The lobby was a display of faded grandeur. The floor tiles were cracked, gold paint was flaking off the columns, The framed movie posters of beloved classics were faded and indistinct. Too many bulbs were out for it to seem like a recent development. Still, the popcorn smelled heavenly and Reed was prepared to believe the sign that promised "Real Butter."

The snack counter was doubling as the ticket booth with a single woman handling both. She was perched on a stool reading from a battered old paperback.  As Reed approached, she stood, leaving the book spine up on the chair. Reed instantly found her thick glasses, and bobbed hair endearing.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" he asked.

She squinted at him, then stepped back as if she was sizing up a work of art. "I never forget a face," she observed, "But I could see how for you I'd make an exception."

"That's reassuring. It means I still have a chance to make a bad first impression."

"Is this an aspiration of yours?"

"I hate to leave such things up to chance."

She grinned at him. "You know, if you're going to waste my time, you should at least buy a ticket."

"Alright, and a medium popcorn, too."

She scooped his popcorn into a bag, pausing halfway to put butter in, and then adding more on top. She placed the popcorn on the counter for him, then ripped a ticket in half and handed him the stub.

"Can I offer you a word of advice?" she asked.

"I wouldn't dream of stopping you."

"Actually, two words. One, shave. Two, sit near the back, the view is better from there."

"Thanks, I'll keep it in mind."

The ticket woman reached into his popcorn, and grabbed a small handful. "Popcorn tax. They're a bitch, but what can you do?"

 

The theatre couldn't have had more than a dozen people in it. Mostly it was couples of what seemed to be college students. Who else would be attending the last showing on a Tuesday? There was at least one guy lecturing to his date on factoids he'd picked up from online movie sites. Who had originally been asked to play the lead, how many Oscars the film had won. Reed chose a seat in the back row. He would have anyway, there was something about going to the movies alone that made him want to avoid the gaze of others.

Without fanfare the lights dimmed, and the film started playing. No cola commercials preceded it, no kitsch promos recommending snacks, no coming features. Just a woman with a torch and the words "A Columbia Production." Reed had seen the movie before. A rich heiress runs away from home trying to rejoin the man she'd barely married before her father stopped the wedding, and brought her back to his private yacht. Now, the woman must get from Miami to New York City without being caught by any of the private dicks hired by her father. Enter Clark Gable, good for nothing journalist who see helping her as a chance at the exclusive full story. Naturally, they don't like each other at first. Naturally, hilarious antics ensue. Naturally, they fall in love. Reed didn't think it was the first road movie, but it certainly set the standard.

About half an hour in, the door opened and closed, and then somebody was sitting down next to him.

"Did I miss the Walls of Jericho?" she whispered.

"Afraid so, but you're in time for a lesson on how to dunk a donut."

"I could write a book on that very subject."

Somebody up front shushed them. They giggled as if annoying the guy was half the point of talking.

Reed wasn't entirely sure when she slipped away again. Shortly after Claudette Colbert revealed her leg to hitch a ride for them. He turned to realize she was gone. A shame, really, her presence next to him had felt improbable but right, like the way Clark Gable would get the girl in the end. Real life doesn't work that way, no matter how you wish it will. If you start the trip alone, chances are that's how you'll finish it, and nothing more interesting than bad case of gas from Howard Johnson's is likely to occur.

When the movie ended, the audience clapped. He never saw anybody do it at the multiplexes, but somehow whenever he was at the Palladium, people would do it, as if they'd returned to an age so innocent that they believed the actors could hear the applause. Never mind that the actors weren't just not present, but not even alive anymore. Reed stood up, and stepped back out into the lobby. The snack counter was closed down, and the lights were mostly out, with just a few strategically placed bulbs to lead one to the exit. The woman was leaning against a pillar, reading from her book again. She glanced up when she heard the doors swing open.

"Hold on a minute," she said. She walked over, and gave a knock on a utility door. A moment later a guy with a shaggy head of hair stepped out of it.

"Hey Gina, we gonna get some drinks when the film is done rewinding?" he asked her.

"Can't," she gestured with her head towards Reed, "Got a date."

The guys eyes narrowed as he looked at Reed. "With this guy?"

"We've been planning it for weeks," Reed said, "the Top of the Town restaurant is staying open just for us. You did bring your evening gown, didn't you dear?"

"It's in the back of the car, do promise me that you have a real bow tie this time, you know how I feel about the clip-on."

"Don't worry, I've been practicing."

The projectionist shrugged and disappeared back upstairs to the booth.

"Well, shall we?" Reed asked.

"Let's."

 

They decided to hit Katz's. Katz's was the last independent donut shop in town. Everyplace else had been bought up by the two major chains that threatened to divide the city into two armed camps. Katz himself still made the donuts each night, and his wife worked the counter. Katz's theory was the choice was dooming the noble art of donuts, and as such only offered 6 varieties. Plain, glazed, jelly, powder sugar, chocolate, and cinammon. As for coffee, he hadn't so much as allowed decaf to be served.  Reed and Gina had plain donuts and black coffee. Both followed Gable's rule of dunking quickly to avoid getting the donut overly soggy.

"I'd never seriously considered dunking donuts at all until the first time I saw that movie," Gina said, "Stupid the things you pick up from movies. Like I always crack eggs with one hand because of a scene from 'Sabrina.'"

 "I learned how to swim from the last scene of 'Sunset Boulevard,' so perhaps it's best if you don't take me for a dip in the pool."

Gina popped the last piece of her donut into her mouth. "Not yet, at least. But if I ever need to get rid of you, I'll keep that in mind. Would you think me a tremendous pig if I had a second one?"

"I already think you're a tremendous pig the way you ate the first one, so you have nothing to lose."

She leaned forward, and kissed him on the lips. It was a clumsy, awkward sort of kiss. The angles were wrong, they had crumbs on their lips, neither seemed quite sure of the dimensions of each other's face. Reed was fairly sure it was the single best first kiss of his life.

"You really should shave," Gina remarked.

"I keep my razor in my other pants. So, you getting another donut?"

"I have a better idea. I have a '78 Buick Skylark with a full tank of gas. What do you say we just pick a direction and drive until we run out of gas?"

"A '78 Buick? With its mileage, we'd get what? Half a mile?"

"We'd make it until dawn at least."

"I have to work in the morning."

"Don't worry about it, I'm an heiress."

 

The car was rust colored except for one side panel which had been pulled off a blue car of the same model. The windows had been left open, so the seats were wet from the earlier storm, but there was newspaper enough to give them dry spots to sit. Paper coffee cups were crushed in the footwells, and paperback books were tossed randomly in the backseat. The car started up on the first try, to Reed's surprise. Gina gave him an evil smile as she pulled the car out of the lot.

"We're really doing this, aren't we?" he asked.

"We are."

"What a lucky night."

"You don't know the half of it," Gina said.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, last week we showed 'Thelma and Louise.' You wouldn't have stood a chance."