Monday, February 14, 2011 |
When I was fourteen I worked at a movie theatre. It was twelve hours a week where I could escape my overprotective, highly religious and overwhelmingly strict father. I went to school of course but that was the same as home, like an airtight container with all the thoughts and dreams everyone else wanted me to have shoved inside. Work was the only place I could be someone else. I believed that all the movies I watched on the big screen were real; that fairytales could happen and unrealistic dreams could come true. I wasn't allowed to date but at work I was seeing a guy named Nate who was five years older than me.
For a whole summer we made out in broom closets, stairwells and in the back corner of the movie theatre. I felt mature, and rebellious. One night we worked until nine and then decided to go see a movie. We picked a movie that had been out for a few weeks so that we could have some privacy. You are so beautiful, he whispered in my ear. I slid on top of him facing the screen and watched the movie. He slid his hand up my skirt and we kissed. All of a sudden the theatre lights went on and the manager was standing in front of the screen with my father. He stood there frozen, glaring at me with disappointment. I didn't have another job or boyfriend until I was eighteen.