The Original Scream

My first job, as you may remember from my jobs post, was working in the concession stand at the local movie theater. There were 3 screens, and we were the only movie theater for MILES. So a Friday night was going to be full of pretty much everyone I went to high school with. The concession stand itself was a big circle in the middle of the lobby. The door to get in was a "hidden one" (it's amazing the things you can do with paneling). The front of the circle was of course the glass case with the candy, and the back of the circle had cupboards where we kept the extra candy so we could stock up before the 2nd show. (Though we never ever had to stock up the Goobers. Seriously, who BUYS those? I'm pretty sure they are still there on the shelf at the theater. The same boxes that were there when I was). We wore black pants, white button down shirts, black bow ties, and blueish/grayish/ickish smocks that tied on the sides (I guess just in case spontaneous finger painting broke out).

Ok - to set the scene, you must know that I don't do scary movies. I have much to active an imagination for that. What I see on the screen will become 10 times worse in my bedroom in the middle of the night. Having said that, Child's Play was at the theater that week. On our breaks we were free to go in and watch parts of movies, and my friend Monica dragged me in to Child's Play just in time to see Chuckie choke some guy from behind. Ick.

Back to work we go. The lobby is filling with high school students milling about waiting for the late shows, the popcorn popper is spewing forth copious amounts of fluffy whiteness, and we start restocking the candy in the front. Skittles, Sour Patch Kids, M&M's, Milk Duds (my personal fav), back and forth, grab the candy from the back cupboard, put it in the case, grab the candy from the back cupboard, put it in the case. Finally, the candy is full, so I turn, shut the cupboard door with my butt, and walk away.

ONLY to be yanked back by my smock which is now pressed into the flesh of my neck. OH MY GOD IT'S CHUCKIE!!!!!!!!!!! HE'S REAL AND HE'S AT THE THEATER AND HE'S CHOKING ME!!!!!!!! I FREAKED out... FREAKED I tell you. I'm gasping, I'm panicking, I'm doing the classic grasping my hands to my throat in the international symbol of "HOLY CRAP I CAN'T BREATH"... I try to run from his evil doll self but it's only making it worse. After what seems like hours, Monica runs to the cupboard and opens the door... releasing the tie from the side of my apron which had gotten caught... thereby releasing the pressure on my throat... thereby bringing me back to my senses... at which time I look out into the lobby at the stunned faces of pretty much everyone I went to high school with, and the then side-splitting laughter begins. Theirs... not mine. I sank to the sticky greasy floor, and stayed there.

This story is brought to you today in an effort to try to win YET another give away. This time from Jaci who is reminding us of all things high school. So go check that out, and totally enjoy her blog, but don't enter the contest because that reduces my chances of winning. (Did I say that out loud???)