This short story was originally posted to my website in April of 2018, but I’m re-posting it for one specific reason; The CoVid-19 Pandemic has upended all sorts of things. I was so bummed out when I learned that the Summer Olympics were postponed till next year, and possibly even cancelled if the virus lasts into next summer. Last week I found out that the Birds of Prey-Men’s World Cup Alpine ski race in Beaver Creek I always volunteer to do course security for, was cancelled. Then a few weeks ago, I learned that the Telluride Film Festival which I’m always one of the volunteer taxi drivers for, was cancelled. Hence the reason this short story is being re-posted. I’m a huge (and I do mean HUGE) movie fanatic. We’ll get through this weird time, but it sure hasn’t been a very good experience.

 

Word Count: 2844

Confessions of A

Speculative Cinephile

To say Spencer Santiago is not your average movie aficionado is like saying “The Wizard of Oz” had elements of fantasy woven into its storyline. STS, acronyms for Spencer The Speculator, had alabaster skin. Due in large part to very little of it actually having seen any sort of sunshine in his twenty-four years.

Spencer spent huge amounts of time watching movies. Sometimes two or three viewings of the same feature before developing any sort of opinion about the motion picture. This was followed by talking about the feature and its relative merits (or lack thereof) online with fellow movie buffs.

Spencer thought about majoring in Film Production in college, but didn’t. After three years of struggling through classes related to the industry, deciding he enjoyed just watching movies and nurturing an opinion instead. Much easier to develop an attitude, then posting the rants on your Facebook page rather than dealing with harsh realities of 21^st century life.

STS did have a full-time job, but in the eyes of a few folks it really wasn’t. Gainfully employed as an usher at the neighborhood multiplex ever since the tender age of fourteen. This job allowed him to preview three or four new movies every week. With concessions for holidays and vacations, STS had viewed an average of about one hundred and fifty films every year for the past ten years. Which came close to nine hundred movies in all that time. Or as his uncle who wasn’t a cinema buff disgustingly put it, “Lots of time spent hanging out inside other people’s dreams.”

The movie job didn’t pay that well either. Just barely above minimum wage. Which for the state of Colorado was $7.78/hr. Add another quarter to that and you’ve got an employee who really isn’t getting rich. Rest assured they won’t be giving Warren Buffet a run for his money in the gross revenue department any time soon.

STS loved the job though, which should count for something. Especially when you consider that a large percentage of the working population in America spends inordinate amounts of their time on the job complaining about how much they hate what they’re doing. Inevitably followed by figuring out new and innovative ways to avoid any sort of physical contact with the boss.

_______________

Spencer probably would’ve happily continued working at the theatre until the day before Armageddon if it weren’t for the not-so-subtle influence of his sister Beatrice. Some said she was heavily influenced since neither parent was ever home. Did she feel this strange obligation to control large aspects of her little brother’s existence? Other’s said it was just Beatrice being Beatrice. A nose-in-everybody’s-business, smart-ass outlook in spades, somewhat overbearing personality. Whatever it was, Beatrice carried out a running conversation with her younger sibling early one evening. Both of them found themselves hanging out at home on a Friday night with nothing better to do.

“So what’s the deal Santi?” asked Beatrice. ”Here it is the big night of the week for everybody to go out and you’re stuck at home.”

STS looked up from his computer, “Management had me on the schedule, but they didn’t need me.”

“How come?”

“One of our kids was scheduled to go on vacation starting today, but he changed it to next week. Told the boss he needs the hours so I volunteered to take the night off, I’m free.”

“And there aren’t any cinematic messterpieces you wanted to view this evening? What a surprise.”

“I’ve already previewed the new movies we got and a second look just doesn’t interest me.”

“Shocks to my system just keep coming again and again.”

“Yeah, just hanging out.”

“As usual watching television is beneath your “finely tuned cinematic expertise.”

STS looked defiant while he said it. “The cultural quality of most TV is infinitely worse than the general public can even imagine.”

“Yeah right, and the quality of most of the products Hollywood puts out is so much better.”

“A lot of it is.”

“Whatever. Almost sounds like you’re just surfing the Web this evening since you don’t have anything better to do.”

“I’m planning my strategy.”

“Speaking of planning one’s strategy, you given any thought to that latest proposal from my friend?”

“Which, the offer to speak to her book club about the best movies of all time?”

“No Mr. Ebert not that. The technical school suggestion.”

“What?”

“You know, the one where you’re supposed to apply to that trade school.”

“And become a certified electrician. Why?”

“Why not.”

STS had to figure out a way to dig himself out of this latest foot-in-mouth episode. “All because I told her I took my computer apart to try and figure out how it works.”

“Well isn’t that why you did it?”

“No, not really. I was bored that evening and didn’t have anything better to do.”

“Ah the truth comes out,” said Beatrice. “I’d say the plot thickens, but that isn’t really the case. More like it thins in this particular situation.”

“Like your life is so damn exciting.”

Beatrice smiled. ”Actually, it’s probably more of a snoozefest than yours. At least in my defense I don’t spend the majority of my time watching other people’s fantasies unfold.”

Suddenly STS’s face turned fire engine red. “Oh yeah, just because I’m so fanatical about watching films doesn’t mean that’s my entire life.”

“It doesn’t? Gosh, almost sounds like you’re being a bit too defensive about your riveting lifestyle. Maybe we can harness that energy and make a movie out of it? Add a few bomb blasts here and there to maintain audience interest.”

“So what are you proposing I do?”

“I know this sucks, but you should confront some reality.”

“How?”

“Get another job. Something that actually pays you a little bit more cash than your semi-volunteer position at Twin Lakes Multiplex. Wow, what a concept?”

_______________

Even though he generally didn’t dream at night, Spencer had a fitful night of slumber. This was highlighted by a very bizarre nightmare, resulting in STS waking up in a cold sweat even though it was the height of summer.

In it, he found himself wandering the streets as a homeless derelict. The dream took place in late fall, the wind was howling like a low budget Hollywood Horror flick, and Spencer’s shivering had a lot to do with his coat. The garment had more holes in it than a freshly produced slab of Swiss cheese.

Spencer’s cold sweat had lots to do with ulterior events that took place within his nighttime hallucination. He’d suddenly become homeless because his father finally put the hammer down. Yelling like an army drill sergeant at his son to either quit working at the multiplex or pack up and hit the dusty trail.

All this taking place immediately after management told its employees they had to take a cut in pay. From their currently lucrative $8.33/Hr. to a soul crushing 3.44/Hr. Adding insult to injury, $3.44 happened to be the exact amount of money STS owed Beatrice.

Now Spencer was wandering aimlessly down the street. This zombie impersonation was entirely due to the fact that he’d just been fired at the multiplex. He’d finally gotten up the courage to tell the boss his taste in movies was a running joke. Similar to a pre-school worker whose mindset is stuck in the 60’s.

The dream was coming to its depressing conclusion when Spencer woke up. Towards the nightmare’s end STS was walking in the direction of a carpet factory. Crossing his fingers and hoping to land a job in their mail delivery department as a nightshift janitor.

The first thought that went through Spenser’s mind upon waking up was an urgency to search for a new direction in his life. Working at the multiplex was fun exclusively because he got to watch movies for free, but a change was in order. Just what that change might be was the question of the day. Something that could maintain his interest. At least beyond hour #1 of an 8-hour work day.

Spencer always liked building things, and at one time even considered a career as a construction contractor or  architectural design. That plan of attack quickly fell by the wayside. During a particularly obstinate phase of STS’s relationship with his sister, he got sick of Beatrice chastising him for putting a movie viewing room in every Lego house. Soon after that, Spencer avoided the construction of almost everything. Deciding it was like being indefinitely sentenced to labor at a North Korean bomb-building factory.

Then as a result of his fanatical devotion to watching cinema, STS started getting interested in movie pre-production. Specifically, the initial storyboard phase of set-up. Like most kids, he had a vivid imagination and enjoyed drawing pictures and coloring. Right about that time he watched a documentary that talked about the tremendous amount of preliminary work involved in getting a motion picture made. The prospect of being able to make a living as a story-board artist for a production company seemed even better than being trapped overnight in a candy store.

Unfortunately this career path also ran headlong into a brick wall. Like a lot of kids growing up in America, STS had the attention span of a preschooler. Child psychiatrists might be tempted to diagnose his behavior as a clear sign of ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder). This would be a somewhat false diagnosis. Spencer got bored with drawing pictures specifically because it just didn’t provide him with immediate motion picture gratification. His new movie production computer game, “You Control The Variables,” did just that. Within a short three months of telling everybody he was a serious artist, Spencer abandoned any intentions of ever getting paid to draw pictures for the cinema. In fact, carrying a pencil in his hand became a rare sighting on par with that of snow leopards or the Loch Ness Monster.

STS was at an impasse. He knew he had to explore some alternative career options, but had no idea what they were. Sooner or later he’d probably outgrow Twin Lakes and end up getting fired. Doubtful that management will widen the aisles in order to accommodate his walker.

_______________

STS did what a lot of people chose to do in situations such as this, ignore them. Since he’d already seen all the new movies that week, this option wasn’t available. Some hard choices needed to be made, and Beatrice would help him to make them. Which happened when she walked in on her brother as he was making a PB & J sandwich in anticipation of formulating these decisions.

“Gosh,” said Beatrice. “So considerate of you to think of me. Extra peanut butter on mine. I want the jelly evenly distributed too. You should cut the crusts off as well since I prefer to consume my p. b. & j’s that way.”

“Who said this sandwich was for you.”

“Getting a little obstinate are we?”

“No.”

“Admit it. The lead in that last movie didn’t take shit from anybody. Now you’re trying to imitate him.”

“And what if I am? What’s it too you?”

“Actually, I don’t want a sandwich. Just wanted to see you do what I think you should do all the time, grovel to my every whim and desire.”

STS took an emphatic bite from his p, b. & j. “I’ve got better things to do.”

“Like what Your Eminence?”

“Been doing some serious thinking about my future.”

“No kidding, I knew I smelled something burning. I would’ve bet even odds you were going to work at Twin Lakes Multiplex till the end of recorded time.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.

“You weren’t? Oh yeah, you’ll work there till a month before Armageddon. That way you will have seen the movie about the experience before it gets released on DVD.”

“I need to make some serious decisions about what to do as my life progresses.”

“Wow, you’re really zealous about this aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t even bother telling mom & dad your intentions. They’re too busy trying to impress their so-called friends to care one iota what happens to the two of us.”

“True,” said a slightly despondent STS. “Why do you think I gravitated towards losing myself watching movies.”’

“Maybe I should’ve done the same.”

“Got any ideas about what I need to do?”

“Whatever it is we can emphatically agree that it needs to involve working with the cinema in some way. Like I said earlier, it should probably pay a little bit better than Twin Lakes.”

“Obviously.”

“Quite possibly a future to it might be a good thing as well. Let me think about this. Come up with a plan that involves my manipulation of the variables.”

_______________

Almost as much as watching movies, it turns out that when he wasn’t at Twin Lakes, STS enjoyed spending large portions of time commenting about the latest celluloid offering. This quirky behavioral trait would become the action that influenced a change in his career path.

Like every newspaper in 21^st century society, The Denver Post was in a constant struggle to survive. Subscriber ship was progressively decreasing, and finding new readers for traditional industries such as theirs was a kin to searching for that needle in a gargantuan stack of hay.

Bradley Watterson was assigned part of this almost impossible task. He really wasn’t up for it, but because he spent so much time surfing The Web management gave it to him anyway. Their objective to increase readership had Bradley designing the portion of The Post’s website devoted to dining & entertainment.

Since Bradley only spent the amount of time it took to microwave something inside an actual kitchen, he got the theatrical portion of the web re-design. He knew about Spencer from a peripheral perspective, but had never met him. That all changed one Friday night when Bradley got invited to an advanced screening. Just so happened it was at Twin Lakes and destiny would also have it that STS sat right next to him in the theatre. A conversation between the two was inevitable.

Bradley acknowledged STS first since he over heard his comments to a fellow employee during an intermission.

“Hope you don’t mind me butting in,” said Bradley. “But I recognize your voice. Aren’t you Spencer Santiago?”

STS couldn’t believe a total stranger knew who he was. “You know me?”

“Of course, you’re semi-famous in the Mile-Hi city. Anybody who knows anything about movies reads your web comments.”

Spencer was stunned and his face showed it. “Really?”

“What are you doing here besides previewing this film?”

“I work here.”

“Theatre manager?”

“No, just a concession stand flunky.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Unfortunately nope.”

Bradley couldn’t believe his luck. “I’m in the process of re-designing the Denver Post’s entertainment website. You interested in working for me as a movie reviewer?”

This sure feels like my destiny. “Do summer blockbusters have guns and car chases in them? Of course.”

“Good. Give me your telephone number and I’ll call you in the morning.”

“You really want me to work for the Post?

“Why not. You aren’t a serial killer?”

Spencer couldn’t believe someone was actually thinking of paying him to watch movies and spout opinions about them. All of a sudden life had indeed turned into a bowl of cherries, and he was the one getting ready to stuff them down his gullet.

Reality has a nasty habit of worming its way into lots of fantasies come to life. This situation was of course no exception to the rule.

“If we hire you, management can’t start out paying too much,” said Bradley.

“What kind of salary we talking about?”

“10.00/Hr. in the beginning. Maybe I can swing it so you’ll get $12.00 or $15.00.”

“Spencer couldn’t believe it. In his eyes this starting salary seemed more like he was about to become Donald Trump’s Manservant.

Bradley decided to bring their conversation to an abrupt end. The lights were dimming and the fantasy was about to start. “One last question. I was wondering, how many movies do you watch in an average week?”

“Ten or fifteen. Sometimes more.”

“Real life must really suck?”

“A bit of an understatement. Why do you think I spend so much time staring at screens?”

***************