First Feel at the Reel - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

First Feel at the Reel - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

Last week, as I listened to the Salve Regina professor’s lecture on the importance of character, appearance, acceptance, description, and navigating cultural expectations in a story, I harkened back to the afternoon of my first date. Yes, I was daydreaming in class, but what fodder it gave me for what I am about to tender.

I was drenched as I paced the sidewalk waiting for her to exit that front door. A rim of sweat lined my lip and two rivulets trickled under my arms.

As we walked to the Castle Theater, I glanced at friends playing ball in the lot. Lucky them. They stopped and smiled. I heard a whistle that momentarily defined me as a kid who played games with those other kids, faux advisors, and now was walking head down two steps ahead of a girl. I feared I might break out into something that needed Clearasil Cream.

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After an overlong walk, we arrived at the theater, first paying our way and then stopping at the candy counter. We stepped into the house's darkness and took our seats on the right side, one-third of the way from the screen. I had two things on my mind. Stop sweating. And something else. I unloaded half a pack of Dubble Bubble gum into my dry mouth and chewed vigorously. She was beautiful. There was something about brownish-red hair in a ponytail.

We sat and watched some movie, and in a moment of heroism, I draped my arm around her seat, just the seat, the cold metal seat. “Get your arm off there!” The matron of the theater on her rounds. My arm swiftly retreated like a slingshot returning to its sling.

I chewed. She was chewing also; Spearmint, I think. She was a snap cracker like the cereal guys. “Stop that gum-snapping!” Some ole lady from the rear. How did gum become the centerpiece? Something else distracted me. It was her sweater. It looked soft. And touchable. I looked around. No matron. I snuck my arm back to the seat and allowed my fingers to crawl along its edge. I hoped the ole gum-intolerant lady would not hear my beating heart.

At the same time I was sliding my other hand nervously under my seat. What I felt was a sick surprise. Land mines of gum! Ugh. Yes, my first feel at the reel was not what I planned. It was gum!

I would have thought gum under a theater seat would be sticky, but no. There were uneven rows of hard bumps of all sizes and shapes. I’ll never know what caused me to slide my fingers over them but slide I did. How awful. How unsanitary. Why would someone chew gum and abandon it under the seat? How unromantic; certainly not what I wanted to experience on my first date. I swallowed my Dubble Bubble wad.

It was a long walk home as she walked ahead quietly.

Why write this, you might ask. Well, I was daydreaming in a writing class. And wondering.