Expectations and Anticipations
10...
We stood on the roof of the Laemmle Playhouse on Colorado Boulevard. There was drinking, of course, and loudness also; this was a party after all. Then, without warning, the rooftop momentarily quieted as a bottle flew into the air. It moved as if in slow motion, following the arced trajectory up then down, before landing in a loud shatter. Screams ensued, then cursing, and then police, already in a bad mood spending the night on crowd control, made it clear that partying on the rooftop was no longer allowed.
9...
Earlier that day plans were still being formed with calls out to my friends, Mike, Larry and Sammy to see what the evening may entail. Mike was willing to do “whatever,” Larry was as yet unclear in his plans and presumably weighing his options for the evening, and Sam, who had a lead on a party that he was certain he could “get us all into.”
8...
Forbidden from the roof, we returned to the interior of the theater. I made my way to the back of the concessions stand, pouring a fountain drink and scooping up some popcorn. My friends had already made their way into theater two, and were seated in the fourth and fifth rows, smoking cigarettes and drinking beers.
7...
Sammy’s party would start early, but would not be very active until later in the evening. Mike, Larry, Sammy and I got into the car and drove out to Pasadena, not to the theater, but a few blocks south, to Sebastian’s apartment to get our drinking started early and get nice and toasty before heading out.
People were huddled up into groups, enjoying the novelty of partying in a movie theater. I sat down and pulled a cigarette out of the pack in my pocket, placing it on my lips, and then lighting it. I put my feet up on the seat in front of me, enjoying the atmosphere. The smell of alcohol, cigarettes and weed lingered, the screen was empty, the people loud and happy, that night the show was playing out in the theater instead of on the screen.
5...
Sammy had ulterior motives at play that night. The party was being held by some new friends of his, many of whom were employees at the Laemmle. Sam’s interest lay in one partygoer in particular, a “cute, hip chick,” that was “just my type,” and “I’ve been working on for months.” This woman, he claimed, was special, unlike anyone he had ever met, and he had spoken of her often enough in the last few weeks where it was clear his infatuation, at least, was real. For Sam this was the night where he would attempt to cross the bridge that separates friend from something more.
4...
The PA system came to life, asking everyone to gather together in the lobby. We got up and made our way back through the short hallways that connected the theaters, back to the concession stand. The lights in the lobby dimmed as the lights outside got brighter. The sound of cheering became louder outside as the countdown began.
3...
Time moved quickly in Sebastian’s apartment and soon it was time to head north, toward something new. We made our way up Oak Knoll Avenue to Colorado Boulevard. People lined the street, sitting in chairs, or wrapped in blankets, some even asleep within tents. The theater was in front of us, but a metal fence ran along the street, separating the campers from the businesses behind them. Sam looked for his contact, his friend who had invited him, to let us in, but the only people behind the fence were a young lesbian affectionately kissing one another.
2...
Sammy had a plan to impress his crush. To be with her as the countdown ended, and kiss her to celebrate. That plan had been foiled before it started. He was standing with us, beer in hand, ready to toast. Even in loss, this was far too fun an evening to be too down. The lobby was packed now, bodies pressing against each other, and you could almost feel the tensing of muscles in anticipation..
1...
As the couple broke from the kiss, I recognized one of the young women that were previously embracing. “Nicolette,” I called out, and she recognized me immediately. I explained to her our situation and she immediately let us in. After some small talk, she returned to her partner and we made our way inside. Sammy turned to me, and asked “How do you know her?” I told him we went to elementary school together. ”She’s the girl I was talking about...” I looked at Sam, his face the epitome of dejection. I wanted to say something comforting, but instead I clapped him on the shoulder and yelled:
Happy New Year!
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