Sin City
Saturday afternoon. The sky was so gray it dulled the color out of the buildings. Everything looked like it was in the past. Washed out. Only the streets gleamed with blurry traffic light tricolor. The wind forced the rain sideways blinding me behind my glasses. I covered my bald head with a sweatshirt hood and pulled the strings tight. The storm reminded me where I left my umbrella three nights ago.
I was in a dingy bar. Some dame parked herself next to me and ordered a gimlet. She asked me for a bar napkin but that was just an icebreaker. The conversation flowed like milk from a pitcher. Typical broad stuff. The news. The weather. Celebs. The standard jabs. This broad was being surprisingly flirty. I figured things were going pretty solid... until her old man showed up. She saw him walk in and immediately laughed like I'd just said something funny. I hadn't. Right away I knew I was just a pawn in this broad's game. I was the sap. The sucker. The relationship maitre d. The guy to show her guy that there are other guys out there. Guys like me. I left that place thinking of her game and my umbrella stayed behind. Dames. They'll always will make you forget something somewhere. Or they'll forget something for you... and make you go back for it.
I met a old friend of mine on the corner of Court Street at 12:30. The movie started at 1:00. We decided on getting some bagels first. I ordered first. Sesame. With olive creamcheese. He got the same but added capers. I was jealous. He one-upped my bagel with his capers. I like capers. Next time I'll remember the capers. I took out my small imaginary notebook, flipped to a fresh page and with my short pencil wrote one word. 'Capers'. I shut it and stuffed it in my damp front pocket. I'm sure weeks from now I'll open the notebook, squint at the blurred ink writing, and see a word that looks like 'Drapers.' I'll wonder what a 'draper' is and why it was once important. I told the bagel cashier broad that I didn't need a bag as I holstered my snacks. Her snoop made me confess we were going to the movies and stealing goods in from the outside. A brute looking coworker guy standing behind her in an apron gave me a telling nod. He'd been a movie snack sneak. He knew the drill.
We walked into the crowded theater and I scoped the room for signs of trouble. There were always people at the cinema looking to spoil your good time. Always has been. Always will be. I scanned the room for signs of trouble. Locking eyes with one guy who may as well had a cartoon bubble over his head saying 'I rustle and kick.' Some dame chewing gum looked at me and quickened her gum cud chew. She gave me a fluttery wave. Before I acknowledged her wave, I noticed she was waving to a friend of hers behind me. Dames. You never know who they're waving at and why. But they're always waving at something. Even if their hands are stuffed in their pockets.
The flick started up and I had limited expectations. Things that seem cool have a way of heating up to luke warm once things start heating up. But this flick didn't backstab me like so many countless others. Other movies that claim to be something they ain't. They never were. And never will be. The lying type. This movie was different though. It looked different. It smelled different. It had a purity that I didn't expect considering its dirty hometown. It poured over me like a hot shower after three days of watching tv. For a old flick vet who feels like he's seen it all- I was forced to rethink my attitude today.
After years of bright green waterpistols and lightweight capgun bullshit, this movie felt like someone handed me a real gun. A heater. Handed to me handle first. I suspected it was real right away. Something about the weight of it. The power. I looked up at the shadowy figure who handed me the gun. The gleam in his eyes confirmed it was real ...and the wink he gave told me it was loaded, baby.
Three Good Things About this Movie
- I wasn't unfascinated for a second.
- The dames were something else.
- Every actor who I thought would annoy me won me in a snap.
Three Bad Things About this Movie
- One character was distractingly ferengi.
- I now have to respect Mickey Rourke.
- Occasionally I'd actually notice that the plot was too light on things.
All in all all too often, movies are usually built to disappoint in some way. Some missing element. Some ignored element. A stretched teaser. A guy like me can't help but to build a nice healthy hunk of cynic right into my movie soul. The cynic searches for tripups and shines his spotlight on em. A few times during this flick, my movie cynic whispered in my ear for me to not like this movie as much as I was liking it. Telling me that it was a elaborate trap. Ordering me to see through it. It's hipster flare.
But this movie had so much muscle it acted as its own bouncer. It slapped the cynic right off my shoulder. Then it lit a cigarette with a zippo and snapped it shut. The red burning tip glowed bright as it sucked in the smoke. In a gravelly wrecked voice it said 'You like what you see?' and blew smoke out of the side of its mouth then through his nose. I nodded back with a big smile like a 6 year old kid who was just asked if wanted free ice cream. My cynic made one last ditch effort to get at me. Grabbing at my legs in a panicked attempt to get off the sticky popcorn riddled floor. Growling 'Don't like it, you sucker! Don't! Don't!' But infused with a new power I put my foot sideways on the cynic's neck and pushed down.
As it wheezed into silence, I felt no remorse... not a drop.