Monday night at the cinema was a sorry affair. There was a queue of two people to fall in behind. However I still had wait patiently whilst they decided which vat of coke they would share. Then their noisy tortilla chips would be complimented by which dips? Both, why not. Oh and shall we get a popcorn? Yes, large please? For fucks sake I'm not sitting next to your crunching, slurping and piss breaks every ten mins.
They watched a different film anyway. Only four people were already seated when I sat down for the crude languages film called '30 minutes or less'. One of them was an elderly man with flat cap and cane. He had come to enjoy his cinema swear fest. I looked at him and saw my future. Maybe it was me like the time travel aspect of 2001: a Space Odyssey where the lead character somehow overlaps himself at different ages. Fair play to the old guy. 
It was 11:30 when I set off after film number two (Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy) . The trampled popcorn still lay in the gents toilet doorway. The desolate lobby/foyer? only contained the tired staff all glancing at each other to see if everyone was still awake. I walked back to my van with only the echo of my footsteps for company, passed the car park security guards who stared ashen faced at their monitors of power and got in the van homewards.